


Canadian Sunset

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Winter Holidays Series [30]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: "Canadian Sunset" (song), Air Force Mention, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anatomy, Anticipation, Avalanche Danger, Avalanche Precautions, Bittersweet, Breakfast, Breezy McCoy, Campus, Canada, Caribou, College, Considerate Spock, Crisis of conscience, Danger, Deception, Determined Spock, Distracted McCoy, Distracted Spock, Excitement For Future, Fear of Death, Fear of Flying, Fingernails On Back, First Kiss, First Time, Fish, Fishing, Flirty James T. Kirk, Flirty Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Flying, Forward Spock, Friendship, Frustrated Spock, Gallows Humor, Gentle Montgomery Scott, Gentle Sex, Gentleness, Georgia, Getting to Know Each Other, Green blood, Guilty Spock, Happy Ending, Happy McCoy, Humor, Jeeps, Kansas City Chiefs, Keystone Cops Reference, Lube, Lunch, M/M, Male Friendship, McCoy And Kirk Fist Fighting, McCoy And Kirk Shot, Mild Language, Montgomery Scott Pining, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Mountains, Nervous McCoy, New England, News, Not Canon Compliant, One-Liners, Pissing Contest, Plane With Skis, Pointed ears, Post-Coital, Post-Coital Cuddling, Pre-Relationship, Race Down The Mountain Side, Ranting McCoy, Rating Change, Reluctant McCoy, Resorts, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Sensuous Spock, Shivering, Skiing, Sleep disorders, Sleepy McCoy, Songfic, Space Exploration (Proposed), Spock Can Be Charming And Witty When He Wants To Be, Spock Carrying McCoy, Spock Disappears, Spock In Danger, Spock's Anatomy, Spock's Green Blood, Spock's Humor, Spock's Physiology, Spock's Pointed Ears, Spock's Warning To Kirk, Starfleet (Mention), Starfleet Academy (Mention), Stiff Spock, Sulfhemoglobinemia, Super Bowl, Tormented Spock, Trusting Spock, Ukraine - Freeform, Valentine's Day, Vegetarians & Vegans, Wall Sex, Wild Meats, Winter, Worried James T. Kirk, Worried Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Worried Montgomery Scott, disrobing, ennui, hand play, idioms, lovers reunited, old loves, personality clashes, red scarf, shots fired, song related, unrest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:36:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22441189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Leonard McCoy goes on a skiing weekend to Canada and finds the promise of love and adventure with a mysterious stranger.A Valentine's Day story.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Montgomery "Scotty" Scott, Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Series: Star Trek Winter Holidays Series [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/670427
Comments: 10
Kudos: 29





	1. This Native Is Restless

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Canadian Sunset."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCoy is at the point where even he can't stand himself, so his friend has a suggestion.

The tweedy looking guy shifted in his comfortable chair and shot his companion a watchful glance. Diplomacy was always called for when reminders of social events were required. His friend might not always be too receptive. "Kindly be remembering that Brunswick College is visiting our campus this evening and is gonna be presenting the Late Winter Cantata in Briarcliff Hall, Doctor. Faculty attendance required, if you recall. We need to be good examples for the younger set, you know, so they will want to be soaking up all of the cultural opportunities they will be provided in life. They may not appreciate our efforts now, but they will in time."

His friend looked as exasperated as he feared he would and had something to say about the general state of things.

"Now, how could I be forgetting about that event when Bonnie McMichaels keeps reminding me of it on a daily basis?" Leonard McCoy asked with a put-upon sigh. "I don't need you clucking around about it, too. I'm not quite the absent minded professor yet."

His friend ignored McCoy's tendency for forgetfulness and went for what he thought was the lesser evil. "The wee lass is just proud of her music department, lad," he reminded McCoy gently.

"The wee lass is looking for another trophy husband to keep her company in that Victorian pile she calls a home on Wisteria Lane! Wisteria Lane! That street should be called Venus Flytrap Alley! It'd be more appropriate for her intentions!" McCoy snarled. "The wisest thing that Henry ever did was to die on Dame Bonnie! It was the only way he could escape her!"

"Ah, lad, you are being a little hard on the dear lady now, are you not?"

McCoy knew it was only gentle poking. But to McCoy, it was still poking.

"If you think so much of the 'dear lady' in question, why don't you go ask her out?!" he snapped in reply. "I'm sure that she could learn to love an engineer as easily as a doctor! There's more adventure associated with men who are engineers! They go out and explore jungles and build dams and drive trains, for Heaven's sake!"

Scotty rolled his eyes, knowing that McCoy was just starting to reach his stride on this, his latest rant.

"And just think how handsome you would look on her arm!" McCoy declared. "You, with those rugged, outdoorsy looks and that engaging Scottish burr! Why, you'll set her happy heart atwitter in no time! She'll be the envy of all the old widows on Faculty Row!"

His friend studied him for a long moment. "Perhaps you are needing sometime to yourself." He set his hands on the arms of the easy chair to pull himself to his feet.

McCoy shook him back down. "Sit down. Sit down. Don't mind me. I'm just an old bear that still wants to be hibernating."

"To be sure, it is that time of the year to be to oneself, and that's a fact."

McCoy grinned in spite of his foul mood. "And not sociable?"

"You said it, lad, and not me.“

His friend had said it gently, but it was still a reproof and reminded McCoy to clean up his act. He didn't have too many friends and couldn't afford to lose any, especially this one. They went back too far together.

"It’s probably just the winter blahs,” McCoy had to admit as he unconsciously fingered the coffee cup in his hands and stared at it like it knew some solutions to his melancholy that he didn’t. Which, of course, it didn’t. But he wasn’t the first to seek life-altering answers to personal problems from an impersonal object that didn’t give a damn about him one way or another, and he seriously doubted that he would be the last. But one could always hope and always grab at answers in even unlikely places.

Maybe, just maybe, though, the guy with him cared enough about him and had some answers. McCoy knew the guy cared about him. No problem there. They were best friends at a place where there was little selection for one's choosing. Besides, they had a history, having served in the Air Force together for several years.

McCoy had to face the simple fact, though, that his buddy might not have any more answers than McCoy did. But he would listen and commiserate and be almost apologetic that he could not hand over some appropriate solutions to McCoy’s woes. But he would be a friend and that was all that really mattered to McCoy. 

“You seem in a sorry state, lad, and that can be taken as gospel,” he commented with all of the sincere sympathy that he was feeling. The kind eyes of McCoy’s friend seemed troubled, which they were. The guy with the good heart could take on anybody’s troubles like a thirsty sponge, and sometimes that could be disconcerting for his own peace of mind. But not for his heart and his soul and his karma. If anyone was chalking up good points in this lifetime for the next, it was Montgomery Scott. It was uplifting just being around him, and maybe that was one reason why they were friends.

McCoy just hoped he was as supportive of Scotty as Scotty was of him. McCoy tried, Lord love him, he tried. But even he knew that he could be something of a loose cannon when it came to emotional stability. Oh, he was gifted, professional, and focused when it came to his medical career, but sometimes that attitude and demeanor didn't extend over into his personal life. But he had a checkered past record when it came to relationships, so he had ever reason to be a little hesitant when exposing his heart for new pain. That's why it was so reassuring to be around Scotty's steadying influence. McCoy knew that he was safe with Scotty.

"Just what might be nipping at your heels today?" Scotty urged gently, good man that he was. "You seem to be the very soul of sadness and sorrow."

McCoy shook himself. No use to burden Scotty with his problems. Besides, they were so nebulous that he could not express them anyway. “Oh, it’ll pass.” He glanced outside the frosty windows of the faculty lounge at the piles of snow lying everywhere. “Just like this so-and-so winter weather eventually will. Only forty-some days to Spring, I understand.” 

“Aye,” Scotty agreed, then raised an eyebrow. “Forty-some days of potential ice and snow. But that's because of the mountains so close to us and our altitude. They all serve as magnets for a prolonged winter.”

“There you went and ruined this auspicious paradise we’re in,” McCoy chided, then gave his friend a sad smile. “Whose idea was it to join the faculty of this backwater college in New England, anyway? There are plenty of other schools in places like Southern California and Florida where we could've gone, you know. Places that never see a flake of snow and would welcome it just for the oddity that it would bring. I know I'd like to consider it an oddity for a change, instead of a fact of life,” McCoy mumbled with a rib-shaking sigh that seemed to come from the bottoms of his snow boots.

McCoy couldn't wait until Spring when he could wear his dressier brogan boots all day instead of switching back and forth to these serious snow boots whenever he walked between buildings. Sometimes he forgot to switch and found himself lecturing in the mundane snow gear that were awkward as hell to wear in a classroom. Sometimes he forgot to switch on purpose because he just couldn't bring himself to give a fuck about his appearance. He knew he was quickly going to seed and becoming a campus character whom today's students would remember nostalgically in years to come. But sometimes people get caught up in a vortex that seems unescapable, and McCoy felt like his feet were firmly entrenched in just such a phenomenon. He was slowly getting sucked under, but he did not know if he had the stamina or the incentive to try to escape. Sometimes there is even a certain reassurance that one has a home, even if it is sucking the lifeblood out of that person.

McCoy was pretty sure he had reached that place. And he suspected that Scotty felt the same way, too.

“Just like so many other things in life, lad, winding up here just happened to us. We left the Air Force to face our next great adventure.” He glanced around himself. “And so here we are. Adventuring.” Scotty wasn't given much to sarcasm, but even he had to admit that he and McCoy had succeeded in finding the end of the civilized world as they knew it.

McCoy's sad smile deepened into a smirk. “So much for being the masters of our souls, right?”

Scotty’s smile was kind. “Souls, maybe. But life, maybe not so much.” Scotty stirred himself. “This is the point where self-help guides suggest that we take up a new interest. Or hobby. Or activity.”

“Something to get us up off our lazy butts and move around a little? What are you saying? We should give up our imitations of plants taking root? Isn’t it enough that we’re having to face all of this foul weather? Can’t we just hibernate until the Spring thaw?”

“We could tie our activity into what we're experiencing. I know! We could be keeping records of the winter weather. The days of the snowfalls and the total inches accumulated. There is nothing more current in our lives than that.”

“Our first snowfall was on October twenty-eighth. October twenty-eighth! It’s hard enough to have to face the idea of twenty-eight snows, let alone be forced to keep a record of it! And I'm not gonna even consider the total inches of snowfall we've gotten! It's gotta be somewhere up in the hundreds!”

Scotty gave him a tolerant smile. “It just seems to be that much, lad." He stirred himself. "I know. We could read those books we’ve always put off until we were snowbound. You know, like now.”

“Somehow facing a six-hundred page book based on the foibles of Eighteenth Century English manners and society is about as daunting as being snowbound. And probably ranks right up there with keeping a record of the winter’s snowfalls. Next, I'll be keeping count of how many times that the mice fart during morning chapel at Paxton Hall. It'd probably only be exceeded by how many times that Chaplain Langfield oozes them out, or thinks he does. He really needs to come in and get his hearing checked.”

Scotty refused to be sidetracked by McCoy's bile. “You could take up Greek cooking. Or the study of the Greek language itself. Or you could read ‘The Rise And Fall Of The Roman Empire.' Both volumes. It wouldn't be based on Eighteenth Century English manners and society," he teased gently, then pointedly ignored McCoy's dismissive scoff. "Or how about crocheting a friendship quilt? Or starting a friendship bread and passing it around to your friends?”

“How much bread can you eat, Scotty? I hope it's a lot because that recipe makes tons of bread, and we don’t have a vast expanse of friends. A couple of old bachelors like us don’t blend in too well on this campus unless some hostess is trying to find suitable men to fill out the table for a dinner party featuring a couple of unfortunate women that even a blind guy wouldn’t date. Then you and I get as popular on the social scene as maple candy at the county fair. We’ve got that certain something that helps out a hostess so much then: We’re breathing.”

“My goodness, Doctor,” Scotty said with some alarm. “You are in dire straits, aren’t you now?”

“What was your first clue?” McCoy snarled, then thought better of it. “Sorry. I know I'm being bitchy. And I hate that in women, let alone in men." His eyes rolled wildly. "Let alone in myself!”

“We could go to see the Lakers,” Scotty suggested. “They are in Boston this weekend. It should be great basketball.”

“Not unless we want to sit in the rafters. The good seats would’ve been sold out weeks ago. It’s the Lakers and the Celtics playing, for Heaven’s sake.”

“How about going down and watching ice skaters on Lake Hudson?” Scotty suggested sheepishly. "It's closer and it's free."

“What, and freeze my buns off? And how long would that take? The watching or the freezing? I’d spend the rest of the weekend thawing out my ass that would’ve been stupid enough to sit out in the cold when there was perfectly warm shelter just a few feet away. No, better that I was ice skating so I’d stay warm. And I’m just not in the mood for ice skating.”

“Are you in the mood for skiing?” Scotty asked with sudden inspiration.

“Skiing? Where? On the slopes above Lake Hudson? We know those trails like the backs of our hands or the layout of our own pubic areas. Nothing exciting going on at either place.” His voice was clearly telling Scotty what he thought of that idea. And it was nothing good.

“No. A place up in Canada. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought about it before,” Scotty said with enthusiasm. “A friend of mine is sort of the ski instructor up there and part owner of the resort.”

“Sounds like a pretty flimsy situation for your friend,” McCoy said with a gentle smile.

“He’s a ‘flimsy situation’ kind of guy. It isn’t a permanent position for him. He’s just there until he finds more suitable employment, or until he wears out his welcome in the owner's bed. She is an older lady with eclectic tastes, and my friend can appeal to that sort. But she has a short attention span and looser morals than some men. I understand that their relationship is very open.”

“Your buddy sounds about as shaky in his situation as we are on this college campus.”

"Aye. That's to be sure. He certainly is." Scotty paused and seemed to get more retrospective and more personal as if he didn't know if he should continue. "You may remember him. We served in the Air Force together."

McCoy frowned in thought. "Really? And who was that?"

"He was one of the pilots whose aircraft I serviced. Off duty, we spent a lot of hours tinkering with motors and a lot more hours talking about them over a foaming brew. He was always wanting to get more 'juice' out of a plane and wanting to see what it would do. Jim Kirk is his name."

McCoy grinned. "Hey, wait a minute! I do remember him! He was some kind of hotdogger! Always getting in trouble with the brass, but could come out of some ticklish situation he'd managed getting in the middle of smelling like a daisy. He was smarter than most of the brass and had more guts than anybody in the Corps. He's the stuff that legends come from."

"That's him. Well, he's in Canada now. He told me to look him up sometime. You could go with me," Scotty said carefully, as if he didn't want McCoy to realize how important this proposed trip could be.

And McCoy got the idea that this jaunt up into Canada to see an old buddy was very important to Scotty.

McCoy could pay back Scotty for being a buddy by supporting him for a change.

McCoy tried to plaster on a genuine smile. "I think a weekend in Canada just might be just what I'm needing. Count me in."

Scotty's relief was visible. "Great! I'll make the arrangements!"

Something told McCoy that Scotty had worked out those arrangements a long time ago, but now had the reason to implement them so that his appearance in Jim Kirk's presence wouldn't seem so outlandish.

McCoy wondered just how deeply Scotty's interest in Kirk really ran, but he had a feeling that he might get the chance to find out this weekend. And McCoy just might find something to divert his attention, also.

Whatever happened, it'd sure get him off this campus for a couple of days. And that would be valuable in itself.

McCoy could hardly wait for the adventure to begin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Los Angeles Lakers are mentioned in tribute to Kobe Bryant whom we lost on January 26, 2020.


	2. Our Pilot's Gonna Land Our Plane WHERE?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCoy finds himself at a remote resort and meets Scotty's friend who is too good looking to be true.  
> 

McCoy sat beside Scotty in the small, single engine plane and watched a mountain rushing toward them in the gathering evening dusk. At first it had just been a collection of mountains they were heading for, but then their destination became more specific the further they flew away from civilization. The air inside the cabin of the small plane became definitely chillier, too, despite a heater desperately trying to warm the passengers who were likewise clothed in several layers of bulky clothing. McCoy felt like he was headed for the Arctic tundra with all of the heaviest garments he owned on his back at one time.

“You can see the resort coming into sight just now, Doctor,” Scotty indicated with a nod of his head toward a small cluster of buildings nestled near the bottom slope of the mountain. The rambling buildings perched immediately above a flat, snowy plain that must be hiding a lake beneath it. This must be a beautiful sight in summer, McCoy figured, with the resort reflected in the waters. Now everything was just a snowy expanse, a snowy expanse that he had every suspicion that they were about to get up close and personal with.

“I don’t see an airport,” McCoy noted, down-to-basics kind of guy that he was. “Are we planning on parachuting in?” He knew it was a stupid question. They’d need to be at a much higher altitude than they were currently flying to parachute. Right now, they could reach down and almost pluck pine cones from the trees just skimming their fuselage. Parachuting definitely seemed not to be one of their options. But the alternative-- landing on the snowy lake-- was something that McCoy didn’t want to consider.

“Now, Doctor,” Scotty scolded with a gentle smile. “Up here, the best landing areas are lakes. In Winter, the water freezes over and offers a place for the plane to sit down."

"But there's still all of that cold water under the ice."

"To be sure, that's why we will slide over the snow. Surely you noted the skies on our plane instead of wheels.”

“I did,” McCoy gulped. “I thought that was just the the airplane's way of hinting about what we would be doing these next couple of days. You know, skiing.”

Scotty shook his head and laughed. “Oh, lad, you are quite the joker now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” McCoy muttered as the plane banked and headed for that expanse of snow-covered, icy water just down the bank from that cozy looking resort. “A barrel of laughs. Just loving every minute of our adventure. The threat of eminent death and everything. Probably have hungry polar bears on staff who are our athletic directors and eat the guests who are too slow. Puts an edge on people's exercises and gives them the incentive to get up and move!”

"Stop it! Stop it!" Scotty begged as he laughed. "Even you know that this is too far South for polar bears!"

"With my luck, I'll find some who've decided to relocate," McCoy grumbled. "You know, for their health. Certainly not for mine," he muttered in a lower voice as he turned aside.

Scotty chuckled and shook his head at McCoy. The good doctor was such a fun traveling companion! Even his remarks were full of self-deprecation and sarcasm that he didn't mean.

McCoy was glad that he had Scotty fooled. He couldn't stop thinking about all of that cold water under the ice and the fact that there was always the first time that a ski could punch through that ice and plunge them all into an icy grave in the depths of a little-known lake up in Canada. There wouldn't even be a place to erect a tombstone to indicate that one Leonard McCoy had ever perished there while taking a foolish weekend jaunt to liven up his dull life.

"Donna worry, lad," Scotty soothed, his burr pronounced as he tried to calm McCoy. "Sid is a good pilot. He's done this hundreds of times with no trouble. Isn't that right, Sid?" he asked, raising his voice slightly. "This is a safe way to travel?"

Sid turned with a wild gleam in his eyes, the buckles from his Charles Lindbergh helmet flapping beneath his chin, and an upper canine missing from his grinning mouth. "Hell, yeah, man! It's all good! We hardly ever crash! But if we do, don't worry! It'll all be over in an instant! You probably wouldn't feel a thing!"

Scotty was put out by the pilot, but McCoy wasn't. Even he could tell the guy was exaggerating, and it oddly calmed McCoy right down. Go with the flow seemed to be the pilot's message, and he was right. Most bad things never happen, so why worry?

"Hang on to whatever's important to ya!" the pilot hollered back as the nose of the plane took a sharp dip. He ordinarily wouldn't have shouted something like that, but he was caught up in the moment. He was young, and it was obvious that he felt a kinship with his plane. It was probably what Air Force pilots felt about their planes. Or any pilots, for that matter.

It should've scared the hell out of Leonard McCoy, but it suddenly didn't. Even though his initial instinct was to cup his hands around the family jewels, he realized how ridiculous his corpse in that pose would look on the off chance the plane did crash. Better to think of the landing as just another step to a weekend of new adventures and not the end of it all before it began.

For even as the plane banked, McCoy had to admit to a certain sense of exhilaration coursing through him. He was caught up in the moment, too. When had he last felt that same kind of excitement? That feeling that he didn’t quite have full control of his safety and fate and that something wonderful and thrilling was about to happen? Had he left adventure behind when he'd left the Air Force? Had he traded it in for the comfort and ease of a humdrum teaching position in a third-rate college? Had he given up on Life?

Well, if he had, it appeared that Life hadn’t given up on him. Not quite yet. For suddenly, here was adventure and mystery staring him in the face. And damn if he wasn’t ready to meet it head-on and maybe even spit in its eye!

He could even finally admit to hearing the lyrics of the old song that had been playing in the back of his mind ever since he had stepped foot on this plane.

“A weekend in Canada, a change of scene  
Was the most I bargained for.”

“I need to thank you for swinging this weekend,” he told Scotty. “I still don’t know how you managed to get us off campus at noon.”

The relief was immediate on Scotty’s face. “They were more than willing to give us the time. Graduate students could take the few classes we’ve got on Friday afternoon, me in the physics department and you with biology and botany. Besides, we’ve both got all sorts of vacation days that we haven’t taken. The Dean said it would refresh us both. I believe that his exact words were that we ‘would get the stink blown off.’”

A genuine smile traced McCoy’s face. “Then let’s ‘blow the stink off’ ourselves, Scotty. Let’s be open to any opportunities for adventure that come our way.”

Scotty’s eyes sparkled as they felt the skis settle on top of the snow and the plane slid toward the dock where a jeep stood waiting. “Aye. It sounds like a jolly plan to be sure!” His grin broadened. "And it looks like my old friend is waiting for us! Oh, he will be a sight for sore eyes, and that is a fact!"

McCoy was happy for Scotty. The good-hearted Scot deserved some happiness and much more.

McCoy realized how worried his friend must have been about McCoy’s reaction to their weekend plans. So, damn it, McCoy would try not to be his normal crotchety self. This weekend seemed very important to Scotty, so McCoy would try to cooperate. He'd have a good time in spite of himself. Who knew? It might work. The power of positive thinking had worked for greater men than him, so it just might work for him.

“Jim!” Scotty yelled as he stepped onto the pier and saw the waiting man grinning back at him. “Jim Kirk! As I live and breathe! It is the man himself, to be sure!”

Kirk threw his arms around Scotty and slapped his back. “Scotty! You old wrench jockey!” He pulled back and smiled tenderly at his old comrade. “I’m glad you finally found your way up here. It’s been too long.”

“Aye, that it has been, laddie,” Scotty said softly. He smiled back tenderly, lost in the wonder that was Jim Kirk. “I’m glad that you could make room for us at such short notice.”

“What are you saying?” Kirk chided. “Not make room for my old buddy?"

Meanwhile, McCoy was lost in wonder of his own. As soon as he had seen Scotty react to Kirk’s hardy greeting, McCoy knew that his friend was hopelessly in love with the man in his arms. And Kirk seemed to be acting the same way, too. Why, then, McCoy wondered logically, weren’t they together? Why was Scotty in Nowhere, New England and Kirk was in To-Hell-And-Gone, Canada? Why weren’t they spending the long winter months snuggled up in some warm love nest of their own instead of finally finding each other again on a chilly pier in the Canadian mountains at sunset?

McCoy got the answer to that question in the next moment.

“Jim, this is Dr. Leonard McCoy,” Scotty explained as he turned. “You may remember him from our Air Force days.”

“I don’t, but I believe that’s been my loss all these years,” Kirk said as he grasped McCoy’s hand as if he’d been waiting impatiently to do just that. It didn’t matter if he had or not, Kirk made McCoy feel as if he had.

In the meanwhile, McCoy was sucking his breathe in and trying not to show how utterly stunned he was by Kirk’s golden appearance. Even in the waning light of the departing day, Kirk had a glow around him that seemed to emanate from within himself. And when Kirk beamed that wattage on McCoy, McCoy felt that he was being warmed all over and through his lucky body.

The guy was beautiful, the most handsome man McCoy had ever seen. The most even-featured. The most gently blessed. Oh, sure, there were a few nicks and tiny scars on his face, but they just seemed to add to his beauty and gave him a richness of character. This Jim Kirk seemed too special to fit into a mundane world. He was a blonde god on loan from Mt. Olympus to Earthlings who couldn’t properly appreciate him. And when he smiled at McCoy, Kirk seemed to promise that all of that beauty could be McCoy’s if he was prudent and properly appreciative. Which McCoy could’ve done in a heartbeat, but he would never hurt Scotty that way. But McCoy was tempted. No denying that. And Kirk seemed tempted by McCoy, too. Those bedroom eyes seemed to hold the promise of so many available delights. And Kirk would hold none of them back if he chose to distribute them to some lucky someone.

Then McCoy understood. Kirk turned that easy charm on everybody. And everybody fell in love with him without Kirk having to try very hard. And the guy didn’t even know he was doing it. It just came as standard equipment in the guy known as Jim Kirk.

“Well, come on, guys,” Kirk announced. “Let’s get up to the resort. You’ve got to be tired and chilly. That damn wind sucks down off the slopes and bathes this pier with the sharpest drafts I’ve felt in awhile.”

“I expect it’s cooling in the summer,” McCoy offered as he stowed their luggage in the backseat and followed it inside so Scotty could sit in front with Kirk. “The place probably doesn’t need any air conditioning.” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Kirk said with a tight-lipped grin as he turned over the motor. “I’ve been here only a few months. Showed up with the autumn when the lower slopes were ablaze with reds and golds.” He smirked. “That should’ve been my first clue that when the blazing leaves left, they’d be taking all of the warmth with them.”

“So the higher levels are above the tree line?” McCoy wanted to know. “There’s good skiing here?”

“Both in the trees and above where it’s just you and the open air. Good skiing, as advertised.” He glanced at Scotty. “Which I understand you guys are interested in doing.”

“Leonard is,” Scotty answered. “I think I’ll just sit in front of the fire.” He could feel Kirk’s frown as much as see it in the dim light of the jeep. “Maybe I’ll hike in the woods. Or watch you instruct the skiers.”

That only deepened Kirk’s frown.

Good grief, McCoy thought. Scotty was being as subtle as a love-sick moose in heat. Surely Kirk must be wondering why Scotty had even made the long trip up here if he wasn’t going to ski.

“Scotty did this for me,” McCoy explained, speaking up. “I was needing some diversion and had no idea what to do to help myself. Scotty was being a buddy when he proposed this weekend jaunt. I’m certain that he could’ve had a lot better things to do with his time than trying to cheer me up.”

McCoy could feel Scotty’s heartfelt thanks flowing back to him.

“Scotty’s always been very thoughtful,” Kirk said with a warm look at Scotty who seemed to blush. “I’m actually glad that you guys could make it. There’s someone here I want you to meet.” He turned with a cryptic smile on his face. “I think you’ll want to hear what he has to say. He's really got a fantastic deal for all of us. We'll be able to get in on the ground floor. And it'll be fun.”

Great! Just my luck, McCoy thought. Marooned up here for two days with some dung-ho insurance agent. And probably none of the guy's policies covered idiots riding in planes that landed on ice-covered lakes.

But as the jeep bounced up the uneven path toward the main building of the resort, the setting worked its magic on McCoy and he was awash with the atmosphere of the place. It might've been the last traces of the sun disappearing behind them for the night. It might've been the primitive feel of an uncomfortable jeep ride toward rustic accommodations. It might've been the comfortable attraction between the two guys in the front seat, a magnetism that radiated back to McCoy. Whatever it was, McCoy felt like something momentous was about to happen. Maybe even to him.

That feeling engulfed McCoy and started that old love song playing in his head again. It was so damn loud that it drowned out whatever Scotty and Kirk were saying to each other. But that was alright, because it was private.

What did bother McCoy a little bit was the fact that Kirk seemed to be driving with only his left hand. McCoy had no idea where Kirk's right hand was, but Scotty seemed to have a very thrilled look on his face. McCoy hadn't come this far to die in a ridiculous accident from a jeep overturning in loose gravel on a rough terrain. But he wasn't about to shout a warning. Kirk had probably driven this tract many times under worse conditions. The only difference was that he hadn't been distracted then by Scotty's presence.

So McCoy decided to relax and enjoy the very intimate view of the reunion of two guys with a very obvious personal history. Their faces and the soft looks passing between them were speaking of an old love being renewed in front of him and the promise that neither one of those guys were going to get much sleep tonight.

If McCoy was in any way responsible for that, then his weekend wouldn't be a complete waste.

"Once I was alone  
So lonely and then  
You came, out of nowhere  
Like the sun up from the hills

"Cold, cold was the wind  
Warm, warm were your lips  
Out there, on that ski trail  
Where your kiss filled me with thrills

"A weekend in Canada, a change of scene  
Was the most I bargained for  
And then I discovered you and in your eyes  
I found the love that I couldn't ignore

"Down, down came the sun  
Fast, fast, fast, beat my heart  
I knew when the sun set  
From that day, we'd never ever part"


	3. Brace Yourselves, Gentlemen, This News Is Gonna Blow Your Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk's friend seems stiff and distant, but he has information to pique even the most sluggish of imaginations.  
> 

McCoy and Scotty followed Kirk across a wood-paneled entryway that led to the sign-in desk. Off to the side through opened French doors could be seen a dining room where groups of people sat sharing quiet conversation as they hovered over their evening meals. The aromas whiffing from the chamber smelled delicious and reminded McCoy and Scotty how their appetites had sharpened in this bracing mountain air. Many hours had passed since their hurried lunch when they'd almost been too excited to eat. Now they were interested to see what potluck had to offer them. No appetizers were going to be needed to tease them into eating! They were more than ready to indulge in the local specialties! Hopefully, it would be hearty fare and lots of it! All they needed was the opportunity to follow those enticing smells to their origins. Scotty and McCoy would handle their ends of the dinner by bringing the required appetites.

But after they had registered and had seen their luggage up the open stairway, Kirk led them not into the dining room but to a small living room behind the main desk. It looked quite homey and inviting, especially the overstuffed furniture in front of the lit fireplace. Delicious smells of cooked food seemed to be luring them toward a darkened corner.

“Ah, the private quarters,” McCoy mumbled. “I’m impressed. Dinner away from the common herd.”

“Nothing but the best for old ex-Air Force buddies,” Kirk assured him with a smile.

So, okay. Kirk was considering him as a comrade in arms after only a few moments of knowing him. Well, that was fine with McCoy. He could work up the required feeling of brotherhood if that was what was going to be required of him. And if what Scotty told him was true of Kirk’s ability to pack away strong drink, the three of them would be bosom buddies long before this evening would be over. They might be too hung-over for skiing tomorrow morning, but they would have surely bonded tonight.

“I thought this would be more intimate for our purposes,” Kirk continued. “Less chances of being disturbed.”

He knew he shouldn't do it, but this Kirk was too slick, too sure of himself. It'd take a little more to win over Leonard McCoy, and McCoy was going to let him know that right now. Besides, Kirk was winning back Scotty too damn easily. It all added up to a little hostility from McCoy that he should be ashamed of having. But have it, he did!

“Who are we meeting?” McCoy wanted to know. “The owner of the resort?”

“Sybil?” Kirk questioned with a sharp look from his eyes.

Oops! Maybe McCoy wasn’t supposed to know about her. He must've hit a nerve. Better retreat a little. Kirk must be able to hold his own. He wasn't just another pretty face. Kirk knew when he was being criticized. McCoy decided that he didn't want to piss off Kirk too much. He didn't relish the idea of spending the night in a snowdrift.

The lazy look returned to Kirk’s eyes. He'd seen McCoy's capitulation. “She’s in Cannes.”

“France would be nice this time of the year,” McCoy mumbled, happy that Kirk had relaxed and wasn’t going to get sensitive about McCoy’s faux pas.

“Yeah. She bores easily. And the cold wind was hell on her delicate skin,” Kirk mumbled back, revealing a whole lot about his relationship with the absent lady in question. Kirk didn’t seem too broken up by her absence or too concerned about his immediate future, either.

Pillar to post, McCoy thought. Then chided himself to be judging Kirk so harshly when McCoy himself was about as casual about the direction that his life was going as Kirk was.

“There’s a table set up for our use right over here, gentlemen,” Kirk directed with a raised hand toward an alcove at the end of the room. “In the summer it leads onto a balcony which we won’t be using now.”

“Aye, to be sure not, laddie,” Scotty assured Kirk as he followed him.

It wasn’t until they had were standing behind chairs and were about to ask about the fourth setting at the table that McCoy and Scotty became aware of another person in the room.

To be sure, he seemed to be part of the shadows compromising the heavy drapery, but then he separated from the material as if he'd peeled himself away from it and turned to face the new arrivals.

For the second time that night, McCoy was stunned by the beauty of the man he now faced. But this guy was dark with hair and eyes to match whereas Kirk was blonde and just plain golden. Kirk was open and sunny and a source for light while the vibes off this new guy indicated that he was closed unto himself and absorbed any available light. And while Kirk’s whole demeanor had been welcoming and personable, this guy seemed unapproachable and closed off. 

What in the hell was this guy’s appeal, McCoy wondered. Especially to Kirk. Because McCoy could see how Kirk was gazing at the stranger with worship on his face.

“Mr. Spock, my other guests have arrived.”

“I can see that, Captain,” the guy answered stiffly with his hands behind his back. “Mr. Scott, so good to see you again.” His voice did not reflect any warmth, however. Neither did he extend a hand to shake Scotty's.

McCoy felt Scotty stiffen at his side and glanced at Scotty’s generally genial face. No love lost from either party, McCoy guessed.

“Mr. Spock,” Scotty responded in an unnaturally clipped voice.

“How do you all know each other?” McCoy blurted. He was beginning to feel like the guy who’d missed the first act of a play with a lot of important information about the plot and was trying to figure out the story from what he was learning in the second act.

Kirk smiled. “From the Air Force. Spock was my co-pilot, when God wasn’t. And when I was leading a squadron of jets, Spock was my wing man.” Kirk’s smile deepened. “You might say that Spock’s the guy who's always had my back. He's always made me look good.”

Scotty's eyes narrowed and McCoy wondered if he objected to the image of Spock 'always' at Kirk's back.

“A job that was made remarkably easy by Captain Kirk’s great ability and sterling record,” Spock recited as perfectly as if he had made a recording of it. “And of course Mr. Scott was the chief mechanic who kept our jets in superb working order, especially Jim’s. Mr. Scott often interested the Captain in mechanics when he should have been resting or performing other diverting tasks.”

Scotty pressed his lips together, but said nothing.

Ouch! McCoy thought. So the human ice cube was aware of Scotty’s feelings for Kirk even if Kirk wasn’t.

Then McCoy got the surprise of his lifetime when Spock turned toward him and said,“And I most certainly remember you, Dr. McCoy, and how skilled you are in your work.”

Scotty looked puzzled and Kirk seemed bemused. McCoy figured neither expression came close to the confusion on his own face. So he resorted to a time-honored ploy that had served him well in the past. He escaped to his Southern roots.

“I am afraid that you have me at a disadvantage, sir. I do not recall when we first met,” he twanged slowly in his best Georgia drawl while he treated Spock to an accompanying lazy smile. He was the epitome of the courtly Southern gentleman.

"Afraid I have to agree with the good doctor," Kirk mumbled, but his engaging grin took any sting out of what he had to say.

"Then perhaps this will help you gentlemen to remember." Spock clicked on the tape recorder in his head again as he began to recite. “A certain young Air Force officer had the misfortune of having a plate glass window crash around him. I picked him up and carried his bloody body to your sickbay, Doctor, where you consoled him and patched him up. He seemed to be more worried about his handsome face getting disfigured than about bleeding to death. You straightened out his thinking and helped him get the right perspective on his priorities. I believe that you remarked that the only thing that people would notice about a dead, handsome pilot was the fact that he was dead. It made no difference any longer how handsome he had once been. Dead was dead.”

“That was you?!” Kirk and McCoy yelled in unison at each other, then their stunned faces dissolved in wonderment and grins about the twisted irregularities that Chance can take.

“I can’t believe that I didn’t recognize you since I owe so much to you,” Kirk praised.

“I’m just an old country doctor,” McCoy muttered, still using his Southern drawl. It came in handy for a lot of things, even embarrassment over well-deserved praise.

“Hey, I remember you now!” Kirk exclaimed. “I remember that old country doctor bit! You went through that hellish divorce. You said that your wife took everything and left you with nothing but your bones.”

“And an embarrassed man part,” McCoy muttered.

“At least you still have that.”

“As if anybody would be interested.”

Kirk gave him a lazy grin. “Maybe the right person hasn’t come along yet.”

McCoy blinked. Was the guy hitting on him?! In front of others?! McCoy glanced at them. Scotty seemed stunned about what Kirk had said while Spock looked acerbic. Of course, anything could have caused Spock's reaction, anything from acid reflux to displeasure over squawking shore birds which were settling down for the night just outside the window and loudly quarrelling who got which nesting spot. Meanwhile, Kirk was still giving McCoy the same lazy grin as if they were suddenly best buddies or maybe even something more.

Later McCoy would know that was just Kirk’s way. To be flirty. And the reactions of the others would be characteristic of them, also. Scotty would act uncomfortable. And Spock would be disapproving. Disapproving of only Heaven knew what, but certainly disapproving.

In the meanwhile, Kirk was insisting that everyone sit down before their meal cooled. Scotty and McCoy looked with interest at the steam escaping from the white ceramic soup tureen in the center of the table. A platter of crusty bread sat to one side of it as did bowls of salad greens and fresh fruit.

“I hope that cream of potato soup is to your liking, gentlemen,” Kirk explained. “Mr. Spock is vegetarian, and I thought that we might honor his choice tonight. There’s a sandwich counter that serves burgers and fish fillets just off the main entrance, and it's open until eleven. If you gentlemen are interested, you can visit it later.”

“Oh, no, this is fine, Jim,” Scotty reassured him, and McCoy chimed in, too. But they both planned to hit that sandwich counter before they hit their respective beds tonight. Being polite was one thing, but a man’s stomach is an entirely different matter that reaches beyond the rules of society.

"It has tobacco products, too. And peanuts and chips and cupcakes if you get an attack of the munchies," Kirk continued as if it was his main business to advertise that little sandwich shop. "There's canned soft drinks, of course, and some beer. And a line of Kentucky bourbon and Scottish whiskey that you two gentlemen should appreciate."

Scotty and McCoy really perked up.

"Well, sounds like the kind of place I'd like handy if I was marooned on a desert island," McCoy decided.

"Aye," Scotty agreed. "Everything a man would need in the way of creature comforts."

“And now for the news that I want you two to hear,” Kirk said with excitement as he ladled out soup into thick pottery bowls. “Mr. Spock, if you would be so kind as to tell these two gentlemen what you told me.”

Kirk’s enthusiasm was contagious, so McCoy and Scotty looked at Spock with expectation.

“It is really quite simple, gentlemen,” Spock announced in a deadpan voice that seemed in direct contradiction to Kirk’s. “The American government is planning to start interplanetary travel on a grander scale and with a larger scope. They wish to take it beyond casual probes into something more definite. In other words, it will escalate current programs while developing a wider variety of activities."

Spock glanced around at his audience and saw that the enormity of what he was saying had them too stunned to comment, so he continued. "As you know, we have done some basic space exploration, have contacted enlightened personages on other worlds, and are forming a Federation of Planets to ensure a peaceful co-existence among the many forms of entities throughout the universe. In order to perform this monumental task, the American government wishes to create an organization called Starfleet which will be based in San Francisco. A corps of starships would proceed from there to explore the universe."

Having concrete facts in place of the casual rumors that had been floating around for years seemed to put a reality to everyday travel in space and daunted Spock's audience. Nobody spoke as they tried to take it all in.

Spock continued. "In its search for seasoned personnel to man these new ventures, the American government has been looking around for logical recruits to fill key positions. Where else but with people who have already been trained and have experience in the various armed forces? Gentlemen, we are all Air Force veterans with few personal ties or familial obligations. All of us at this table have unique talents and abilities, from Jim’s and my flying skills to Mr. Scott’s mechanical abilities and Dr. McCoy’s medical expertise. I propose that we volunteer for this new service. With our service records and ready availability, all of us could get into this program on the ground floor, if I may be so bold as to borrow an American expression that is not entirely logical but somehow oddly appropriate at this auspicious moment.”

In the sudden hush, not even a spoon dipped into the aromatic soup. Appetites had been momentarily forgotten for a higher hunger. They realized that they had all been waiting for this call and had simply been marking time until it came.

“Cut the bull crap,” McCoy snarled, the weight of the moment crushing him and forcing him to lash out. “Are you saying that we should all throw away whatever we are doing now and go travel in space?”

“That is exacting what I am saying, Doctor.”

“I object to space on a molecular level, Mr. Spock. It ain’t natural for man to travel in a tin can that could be crushed inwardly by outside pressure.”

“Then you establish an equal and outwardly thrusting pressure from the inside to make the hull of your ‘tin can’ impregnable to crushing, Doctor.”

“Simple as that, I expect,” McCoy snarled.

“That is correct.”

McCoy rolled his eyes, but said nothing further.

“Come on, Bones,” Kirk cajoled, using a nickname that he’d use from then on. “It’ll be fun.”

“You’re both crazy.” He noticed that Scotty wasn’t saying anything. He probably didn’t want to contradict Kirk.

Then McCoy stunned himself when he heard himself say, “I’ll think about it.”

“Great!” Kirk crowed. “Now let’s eat this potato soup before it turns into vichyssoise! I'll admit I'm a man of the world, but I'm not that Continental just yet!”

Later, McCoy voiced his reservations to Scotty just before they separated to their adjoining rooms. "I don't know, Scotty. It's space. I understand what it is. Or isn't. It's nothing. But my finite mind cannot readily accept that concept." He grimaced. "And my finite body doesn't want to be one of the first lab rats to find out if man can exist in it for very long."

"Why don't we wait and find out what it's all about, laddie? The government has surely thought about safety precautions. And Captain Kirk wouldn't let us go into something bad, I just know it."

It was obvious that Scotty would follow Kirk anywhere. But McCoy did not have that blind trust in Kirk, and McCoy's face probably showed it.

"The program is surely as safe as it can be made," Scotty said gently. "Of course, no system is failproof. Accidents will always happen, no matter what. There will always be a margin for error in anything we do in life."

"It's that margin for error that has me worried," McCoy grumbled, wishing it to be noted that he tried to be the voice of reason when this own crazy plan was proposed.

But he doubted that anyone would listen to him. Not now, not ever. He had seen the gleam of adventure in the eyes of the other three, and damn if he hadn't felt a little tingle of excitement himself. But space?! Why did it have to be travel in space?!

But even as he asked himself that question, he knew the answer. Because space was the Final Frontier, and mankind just wouldn't be satisfied until it was conquered.


	4. Ordinarily I'm Not A Morning Person, But I'd Get Up Before Sunrise So I Wouldn't Miss This Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCoy discovers the many sides of Mr. Spock who isn't so stiff as he'd first seemed, just quirky and very interesting. And he even seems to have a long-standing respect for McCoy.  
> 

The next morning, McCoy knocked on Scotty’s door, but got no answer. Hmm, McCoy thought. He must be out and about already. That must mean that I’m late, sleepy head that I must be. Or maybe it was high time I went on vacation!

He’d slept, as the old saying goes, like a log the night before. And that was surprising, considering the disquieting news that Spock had announced at dinner, but it hadn’t caused McCoy to toss and turn. Maybe it was the mountain air that had made McCoy sleep so soundly. Maybe it was the sense that they were on an adventure and that there was a strong promise that the adventure could continue. Whatever, he had awakened refreshed and ready to meet the new day. He hadn’t felt that way in a long time, and he hoped that the energizing sensation lasted a long time because he was really enjoying it. It even made him feel young again, and he’d almost forgotten what that was like.

McCoy carried his breakfast tray into the rustic dining room with its pine paneling and looked around in hopes of seeing Scotty. Instead, the only one who caught his eye was Spock who was seated near a window and looking at him intently. McCoy sighed to himself. Might as well go act socialable even if he wasn’t in the mood to spar with Kirk’s odd friend.

“Dr. McCoy,” Spock greeted solemnly. “So nice to see you this morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Quite well, thank you,” McCoy answered as he seated himself, then gave his new breakfast companion a wry look. “But I, as your potential personal doctor on a starship, should be the one asking that question of you, don't you believe?”

Spock gave him a thin-lipped acknowledgment that was barely a smile. “How true. I shall endeavor to answer in a satisfactory manner that will please even the most conscientious medical person."

"Well, don't strain anything major. I was just asking to be polite. I don't wanna have to go into doctor mode so early in the morning, but I will if I have to. That's just the kinda guy I am. Dedicated to the core. You might even find me a little bit pushy, but I'll always be interested in your welfare. That's the kinda guy I am, too. Sorry if that pushes some of your buttons wrong, but that's just the way it's gonna be if I'm your doctor on a starship."

"I do not know to which buttons of mine you have reference or if there is a right or wrong way to push them, but I will not object to any professional interest you may have in me if it so happens that you become my personal physician at some date in the future. While it might cause displeasure to someone else, I am prepared to state categorically now that having you concerned about my physical wellbeing pleases me greatly and leaves me with a vast amount of reassurances," Spock replied and sounded about as stuffy as a Puritan minister who was prepared to deliver a sermon that was guaranteed to put to sleep the most stouthearted person in attendance.

"Well, now since we've gotten past all of the bull-hockey for the day, maybe we can get down to some serious eating," McCoy remarked as he glanced over his food choices on his tray and found them to be as tempting as he had supposed them to be when he had chosen them a few scant moments ago.

"Quite," Spock answered with chilly overtones. His left eyebrow twitched up slightly to keep company with his tight-lipped pose that was beginning to slip into the sneer that the inner Spock was actually feeling. "And to answer your original question, I slept quite well, also, thank you for asking. But I find that I regularly require little sleep.”

McCoy shot him a brief glance. "Oh? Insomniac?"

Spock's eyes flinched with that jab. He allowed his voice to convey a pained, hardly amused quality which, of course, went over McCoy's head because his had been an honest inquiry. "Insomniac? Hardy. I have no sleep disorders. My body prefers to be active rather than sedentary. I believe that too many people waste perfectly productive hours in a vegetative mode."

“I expect that has come in handy a few times, especially when you were a student and needed a lot of hours to study,” McCoy commented as he salted and peppered his food.

“Studies came easily to me. I have both an eidetic memory and a photographic mind.”

“Of course you would,” McCoy muttered. He was no slouch when it came to intelligence and scholarship himself. His IQ was clear off the charts. But at least he respected knowledge and the pursuit of it. He doubted that anyone with the learning tools that Spock possessed really appreciated the work that ordinary people did to achieve learning.

“I apology for what I’ve chosen for breakfast,” McCoy added. “It’s not everyday that I get the opportunity to try caribou steak.” 

“Odd choice. In Europe, the caribou is known as the reindeer. Do you feel as if you are consuming one of Santa’s reindeer? Maybe even Rudolph himself?”

McCoy stopped and stared at him.

Spock was capable of humor? Or at least of gentle teasing?

McCoy’s eyes twinkled. “I’m sure if it was Rudolph, someone would have saved him. But really, if you’d rather not watch me eat meat, I’ll move.”

Then Spock went back to being stuffy and took away the brief glimpse of someone whom McCoy might enjoy knowing. “I will ignore your consumption. I realize that your dietary requirements for first-class protein are much higher than mine. That is the result of nurture rather than nature, I quite assure you. I was raised with the idea that the eating of meat is a matter of choice. If one trains the body from an early age, it will learn to adapt to a strict food regime that does not include properties that have adverse influences on the body despite whatever nutritional values they might possess.” The way he made it sound, McCoy’s diet was the result of wantonness, poor discipline, and ignorance. Not to mention a gross lack of moral principles.

His people hadn’t been exactly skin-wearing cave dwellers who had hunted mastodons with spears and sharp rocks tied to sticks, McCoy wanted to state in a strong voice. But he didn’t want to insult Spock as much as Spock was insulting him. Instead he said, “My father was an old country doctor down in Georgia. His knowledge brought a lot of babies into the world and managed to help them survive, including me. He did for us what he thought was best with the know-how that he had gotten from a first-rate medical school! And that meant a sound knowledge of nutrition that advocated the consumption of a wide variety of foods which included, forgive me for shocking your sensitivities by saying it, animal flesh!”

There was that tight-lipped grin with no humor behind it again. “I have no doubt that he was a man of immeasurable skill supplemented by much intelligence and applied studies. After all, look how intelligent and skillful his son is.”

McCoy blinked.

Spock could be diplomatic and charming?! Where had that side of him come from?! How many different types of people could this guy be, anyway?! And how many was McCoy going to get to meet before this meal was over?!

McCoy got himself under control. “You’re basing that conclusion after observing me perform only once in an emergency situation,” he muttered as he cut into his caribou steak and tried not to hear the peculiar short grunting sound the living animal could make as if it was a quaking duck with a head cold and was trying to clear its nasal passages. “You were worried about your friend and were grateful that I was helping him. Any halfway decent doctor could have made a lasting impression on you under those circumstances.”

Spock’s eyes seemed to grow in intensity. “It was what you did later that also impressed me greatly."

McCoy could play along. "Oh?" he asked, half in jest. "Amuse me. What did I do later that got your attention?"

But Spock would not let McCoy diminish the memory he had of him. "When you finished dressing Captain Kirk's wounds and the nurse was cleansing his body of blood, you noticed that there were traces of blood on him that could not be his own. They were green. You demanded to know whose blood it was. Someone else must be injured, you said. Someone with an alarming blood condition.”

“I remember,” McCoy murmured softly, for the scene had come back to him just like that. “You spoke up and said that it was your blood. I found your wounds on your hands and dressed them. Then you explained that your family had a rare blood problem that caused a few individuals to be born with a greenish tint to their blood. Sulfhemoglobinemia."

Spock nodded. "It is a condition similar to the blood problems suffered by the royal houses of Europe and England and is caused by the same type of inbreeding. In some areas that type of situation is ridiculed because of the social stigma attached to marriages between close family members. The cause of the problem did not bother you, however. You were simply worried about my welfare, something that had not always been the case when others learned of my condition.”

“Hell, it wasn’t a time to be prejudiced! It was the time to be helpful! I remember grabbing you rather roughly, as if I wanted to shake some anxiety into you. You seemed to be too blasé about your own welfare. I’m afraid that I might have inadvertently caused some surface tissue bruising on you.”

“What you thought of as roughness, I interpreted as concern,” Spock said softly, betraying how much the past experience had affected him. “Your hands radiated a gentleness that I have never forgotten. I am a touch empath, and many feelings such as strong emotions cannot be hidden from me. The love you radiate for others seems like a disadvantage to you, and you try to hide it with gruffness. But I know your true nature. You cannot hide your good heart from me, Doctor. I know what kind of person you are inside, and he is a good man.”

McCoy drew back, embarrassed, and snarled, “Well, if you ain’t being just the psychoanalyst! How much do your sessions cost, or are you working pro bono because you’re some sort of enlightened humanitarian?!”

“Nothing of the sort, Doctor,” Spock replied haughtily. “I am a student of human nature, especially that as exhibited by Americans. They are such an amalgamation of peoples from all over the world, so they are not typical of any certain ethnic group. They can be considered to be atypical when it comes to the study of the five races of Mankind because their lineages are not pure. Americans are therefore unique in their diversification, and therefore utterly fascinating for any student of the Social Sciences such as myself.”

“Do you know how utterly priggish you are sounding?” McCoy growled with his arms crossed over his chest, his tempting breakfast momentarily forgotten in his endeavors to straighten out the thinking of this aggravating man who was making a lot of sense, even if McCoy hated to admit that fact.

“Thank you for thinking enough of me to be utterly honest in your comment,” Spock drawled, sounding remarkably priggish and mocking by using the overworked word “utterly” in a sentence again.

Whichever word McCoy used to describe Spock would suffice, and both amazingly did. And it wrangled McCoy that this guy was getting to him so easily by being priggish and mocking.

Then McCoy realized something else.

He uncrossed his arms. “I think that you just managed to insult me twice, Spock. But it was hidden as a compliment.” His obvious admiration of Spock’s verbal agility was evident, but grudgingly recognized. McCoy had to pay the Devil his due, but nothing was going to make him like it. 

The more he talked to this strange person, though, the more that McCoy was intrigued with him. One moment he was mad at him, the next he was awed, and the next he was liking him. But never once since he had sat down had he been bored.

He decided that he needed to get a better look at this guy whom he’d only glanced at to notice how good looking he was. Chiseled features. Intelligence shining out of his eyes. Black hair and eyes that reminded McCoy of nomads who roamed the windswept plains of the Balkans. How many genes had Spock inherited from Genghis Khan and from how many of Khan’s wives and concubines? For a few moments, his eyes roamed around other features that seemed so unusual now that he thought about them: That hair cut in bangs over his eyes as if someone had set a crock on his head and cut around the edges of it. Those pointed ears.

McCoy frowned. Pointed ears?! Where in the hell had they come from? What ancestor had marked him in that way?!

Spock grew uncomfortable. “Excuse me. Is there a problem with my face?” He wiped at his chin. “Is there jelly on it?”

McCoy stirred himself and remembered his manners. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. But your ears. They have a distinct point on the top of them. Are you by chance from Eastern Europe?”

“Ukraine, in fact. And I do not mind since I know that your interest in my anatomy is being done because of scientific curiosity. My family has the rare genetic trait of pointed ears. I received that regional trait as well as several others despite the fact that my mother is American.”

“Really?” McCoy asked with interest. “That must have been quite a cultural clash when both sides of the family got together for reunions and holidays.”

“Probably as much as if your Southern kin had to get together with French Canadian fur trappers or Arizona cowboys.” Half of it had been said in jest, half showed his prickliness at McCoy’s remark.

McCoy looked sheepish. “It wasn’t that bad since my folks are both from Georgia.”

“A branch of my family is from Georgia.”

McCoy straightened. “Really?”

“Georgia, Russia.” He had the grace not to rub in his jest. “There are also some ancestors from Transylvania.”

McCoy smiled with interest. “Dracula’s old stomping grounds? You might be related to that old blood sucker?”

“I thought that you might like that tidbit.”

McCoy gave him a sincere grin. “Makes us realize that we’ve all got culprits lurking on the ol’ family tree, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Spock agreed with the ghost of something that was the closest thing to a grin that McCoy had ever seen out of him. Maybe the oddball wasn’t so odd after all. Just different.

The edge that was between them had relaxed a little. McCoy wondered if that edge was caused by suspicion of each other, a personality clash, or just good ol’ sexual tension.

If he hadn't mentioned it to himself before, this Spock character was damnation hot!

McCoy had to admit that the guy was a dreamboat, a hunk, all of the cliches for someone who is more than good-looking.

Yep, sexual tension between them might well be an option.

Later, they departed on amiable terms, McCoy for the ski slopes and Spock who did not state his destination. Not that it mattered to McCoy. All that he wanted to have on his mind for the next few hours was how fast the ski trails were running and if there might be the promise of fresh powder somewhere. For the moment, he had no interest in mysterious strangers with hidden depths or an adorable, flirty guy with little concern for his resort job or a buddy with a heavy Scottish brogue who had failed to make an appearance for breakfast as far as McCoy knew.

Scotty was a grown man and was accountable to no one, least of all to his erstwhile friend who was headed with determination toward the nearest chairlift. It was going to be just McCoy and the mountain! And he was ready to tame it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out "Caribous Voice" on YouTube.


	5. Out In God's Country

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCoy hits the slopes and on a waitress while Kirk and Scotty hit on each other.  
> 

Montgomery Scott sat hunched on the edge of the bed and gazed back down in wonder at the rumpled golden god lying in the twisted and sweaty bed sheets.

“How in the hell can anyone look that beautiful after the night you just went through?” Scotty asked with as much awe in his voice as he felt about the fact that he was the one who had gotten to spend the seemingly short night wrapped in the arms of that golden god draped so temptingly before him.

A sensuous smile curved contentedly over the bruised lips of Jim Kirk. He stretched slowly and luxuriously while he tested his body for soreness. It felt like one big raw round steak that someone had taken a meat cleaver to in order to tenderize it. But Scotty hadn’t been using a meat cleaver on him. Jim Kirk would be pleased to inform anyone of that fact. It had been awhile since he'd been subjected to such a thorough handling, and he wanted to savor the aftereffects of his night of love for as long as he could.

Kirk blindly reached out and ran his searching fingers up and down Scotty’s nearest naked arm. His smile deepened. “I’ve missed this arm,” he murmured.

“Funny,” Scotty snapped. “I would’ve thought that it was another part of my anatomy that had your undivided attentions last night."

"Oh, Scotty, Scotty," Kirk lisped with the satisfaction he was feeling reflected on his trusting face. "I love you, too."

Scotty sighed. He could never hide his true feelings from this one. Sometimes he thought it might be in his best interests if Kirk didn't know how much Scotty adored him. It might do Kirk some good if Scotty could keep him guessing a little. But he couldn't play that shallow game, not Montgomery Scott. Instead he asked what he was really wanting to know, "How are you really feeling this morning, me lad?” And his soft voice held all of his concern and genuine caring.

Kirk grimaced as he rubbed his legs up and down to test for hidden damages. “A little sore from all of your poking around back there, but I'll live.”

Scotty looked contrite. “Sorry. But I was a little bit lusty. And a wee bit impatient. I’ve got me some appetites that are hard to control sometimes.”

“I’ve noticed. Not that I’m complaining,” he was quick to amend so Scotty wouldn’t feel bad. "How could I complain about something that makes me feel so special?"

“Oh, lad, I know how much you love that part of me in you,” Scotty said softly. “You surely know by now that's where I want to be, too. I dream about doing it to you all the time. I hate to deprive you of my love tool. It's been so lonesome without you.”

Kirk opened his eyes and tried to focus on that dear face looming over him. “I’ve been missing all of you, Scotty. Not just that part of you that can make me think that one of the gods is handling me just right. All of you, Scotty. All of you!”

“Aw, laddie,” Scotty whispered hotly. “I’ve been missing you something fierce, too, and that‘s a fact! I see you in my sleep. But during the day, it's worse. My fingers remember exploring you, and my lips remember your touch. But my tongue! My tongue has a terrible longing! For it remembers your taste.”

"And your penis?" Kirk whispered with a ragged breath and staring eyes.

"It longs for its home," Scotty whispered back.

Kirk's body convulsed. "Sweet Heaven! Don't do this to me! I know that I'm a bastard when it comes to treating you right!"

"You asked," Scotty replied. What was, was. And he couldn't pretty it up any for Kirk, no matter how much Scotty loved him.

Kirk got ahold of himself as he remembered something that often bothered him. “No, ah, diversions for you down at that isolated school?” he asked innocently as his own fingers absently swirled hair on Scotty’s forearm.

Scotty frowned. “What might you be getting at?” he wanted to know with an edge to his voice.

“Bones McCoy.”

Scotty scoffed and turned aside.

“He would be awfully convenient, Scotty. And could help take the edge off your libido until those times when--” Kirk shrugged. “--when we can manage to get together.”

“I’m not built like that,” Scotty mumbled. “Maybe it would help my standing with you if you knew that I have my opportunities, too. But I have a moral code that I have to respect.” He shrugged, too. “Sorry, but that is how I am hardwired. I haven’t got it in me to make you jealous, even if I should.”

“I know. And I’m a bastard for hurting you the way I do whenever I do more than look at somebody else. I’ve got the morals of a rabbit, but that’s the way that I’m hardwired. Just know that I don’t always mean anything about it. I’m as bad as Marilyn Monroe. She could hop in bed with someone just as fast as shaking their hand or kissing their cheek. The love just spilled out of her, and I guess that it does with me, too. But I’ve got feelings for you, Scotty. Deep feelings. I hope that you realize that I am as true to you as I can be.”

“I’ve thought about coming up here, you know. To stay,” Scotty said softly with bent head. “But I don’t want to try to rein you in or try to tame you. We’d both hate it, and I couldn’t stand to lose you for that reason.”

“You know that if we were both on the same starship that we would be more available to each other,” Kirk hinted softly as his fingers gently played with Scotty’s arm. “We could be together without strings that could get binding.”

Scotty glanced down at Kirk with burning eyes. “And I would take that offer in less than a heartbeat. Having you close and with me part of the time would be better than what we are doing now.”

“I can hear an unspoken ‘but’ in your answer.”

Scotty drew a deep breath and rolled his eyes. “Dr. McCoy.”

Kirk dropped his hand. “That’s what I figured.”

“He’s not very warm about this Starfleet proposition, Jim. He hates space.”

“And you would never walk away from a friend who needs you so much.”

Scotty lowered his head and pursed his lips.

“That’s one reason why I love you so much,” Kirk whispered. “You’ve got a heart that pours out love so much that it hurts itself in the process.”

Scotty looked back at him with tears shimmering in his eyes. “Sorry, lad. That’s how I’m--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Hardwired,” Kirk finished for Scotty before he could say it. He held out his arms. “Now, show me what other ways you are hardwired,” he invited.

“You eejit,” Scotty protested. “We've been rooting around like over-sexed sand fleas for hours. We need to shower before the stink overwhelms us. We need to eat before we starve to death. We haven’t eaten anything since that pasture grazing that you had us doing in honor of Mr. Spock last night. And frankly, lad, I’m ready to get in the middle of a cow herd and let the poor dears see which ones can survive my hunger.”

Kirk undulated sensuously, gave Scotty a smoky look, and ran his tongue moistly over his parted lips. “I’ve got other hungers, Scotty. And only you can appease them.”

“Heaven help me, lad,” Scotty moaned as he lay back down in Kirk’s arms. “I’ve got the same hungers for you and see no chance soon in getting them appeased in a civilized manner.”

“That’s what I’m counting on, Mr. Scott,” Kirk lisped as Scotty’s arms gathered Kirk against his naked body. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

So lunch was going to make the second meal they missed that day. But neither one of them seemed to notice. It was indeed true that they had other hungers that needed to be appeased, and they were both dedicated to the task at hand.

A few minutes after noon, McCoy entered the dining room and looked around for a vacant table. It seemed that there were more people here than he’d encountered at breakfast, and it was probably a true impression. Whereas the breakfast crowd strings itself out over several hours depending upon the hour of rising and greeting the day, almost everyone seemed to have arrived for lunch at the same moment. Many had probably been skiing the same as McCoy had been doing and probably had enormous appetites growling at their owners to be fed. Fresh air and exercise will do that to a person, McCoy thought with a smile.

McCoy could relate to his fellow diners quest for sustenance. After a morning of hitting the ski slopes, he was pleasantly tired and roaring hungry. The caribou steak from breakfast had lasted him until he had stepped into the resort, and now he was ready to eat. If the kitchen ran out of food before he was served, he pitied the first person who tripped in front of him. It might get ugly. Because McCoy was ready for food and plenty of it! He knew he was hungry enough to take a bite out of anything that wasn't strong enough to bite him back.

He spotted a small table off to the side and hurried toward it. Just what he wanted! Somewhere unobtrusive! Generally, he didn’t mind where he sat, especially if he was with a group. Now, if he was with a certain special someone, he would want to be seated in a place that was intimate and cozy and withdrawn from others. As generous as he was, he did not want to share that special someone with the public at large, and he hoped that the special someone felt the same way about him. But since he would be eating by himself today, he wanted somewhere where he could observe others but not be seen so readily himself. Of course, other people should be concentrating on their own meals or on each other. But there was always the possibility that there could be some nosy person who was too curious about McCoy’s food selection or his table manners or how he ate his food. (One thing at a time. Or meat, potato, vegetable. Meat, potato, vegetable. Repeat until plate is clean.)

As he crossed the dining room, the impact of so many overdressed bodies perspiring in such a small area left a profound impression on his nose. His fellow diners had probably all been enjoying outside winter activities the same as McCoy had been doing. Be it skiing or hiking or ice fishing or skating on the man-made rink behind the resort, people had all been bundled up to face the cold weather. All had been well until they faced the heat of the dining room and had begun to perspire. McCoy felt like he was walking through a sauna or a school shower room after physical education class. The roaring fire at the end of the room didn’t help matters much, but the perspiring and the smell would probably all decrease after the diners had been sitting for awhile. In the meantime, the place was going to smell like the inside of a sweat sock.

But McCoy was not going to let that deter him! And by the looks of the other diners and their determination in consuming the hearty food that was before them, they were not going to be deterred, either! 

With delight, McCoy slid into his chair of choice, grabbed the menu quaintly decorated with pine cones and whimsically drawn forest creatures, and eagerly scanned the tempting menu. Everything sounded delicious and he wished he could devour a serving of everything being offered! He grinned. He hadn’t had this much of a genuine appetite in months. Scotty had been right. A change of scene had exactly been what McCoy was needing. It felt great to be alive again. It felt great to be anticipating that something wonderful was about to happen. It felt great to be back with his fellow Man and participating in life again.

“Good afternoon, sir," said a perky voice above his head. "My name is Angie. I will be your waitress today. Have you made a meal selection yet, sir? We have many wonderful entrees to choose from.”

"I see that!" McCoy answered with a wide smile as he looked up at the sweet, young thing looking down at him expectantly with pencil poised on her notepad. She couldn’t be out of her teens yet. Twenty, at the most. McCoy could barely remember that far back to when he had been twenty.

Angie smiled back and McCoy felt right at home.

“Angie, eh? There’s an Angie who works at the student lounge in the college where I teach. Are all waitresses named Angie, or am I just lucky enough to find you ladies?” He knew he was being a silly old man with his efforts to charm a sweet, young thing, but what was the harm? He was on vacation and feeling remarkably frisky.

“Where do you teach, sir?” the sweet, young thing asked with visions of a good tip in her future. “Somewhere in the Deep South?”

McCoy chuckled. (McCoy? Chuckling?! Surely there must be something quite radical that was responsible for his good mood!) “No, miss. Aym from the Deep South,” he answered, dragging out the long “i” in “I’m.” “I teach in Upstate New York. In the Science Department.”

She gave him a tolerant smile.

Then he remembered that her job was to bring his lunch and not become his companion, so he glanced at his menu. “What’s good today?”

“I recommend this fish,” she said as she tapped the menu with the eraser on her pencil. “My husband caught it on the lake this morning while he was ice fishing.”

That’s when McCoy saw the wedding band on her finger. Very married. To a Canadian outdoorsman, no less. Probably good-looking with muscles that he didn’t know what to do with, except knocking down middle-aged guys who leered at his wife.

“Sounds like an excellent choice, Angie,” he agreed, very businesslike. “Thanks for recommending it.”

She smiled at him and he decided to give her a generous tip. After all, she had been nice to a middle-aged guy who had the audacity to leer at her.

After he filled up on a white fish caught in the local waters and followed it with enough vegetables to please even the pickiest nutritionist, he felt an enveloping tiredness wash over him and he knew that he needed to sleep. Never mind that it was the middle of the day, his body was going by a different clock. The best medical advice he could ever give was for a patient to listen to his body. How foolish then if a doctor did not take his own advice. So he headed himself up to his room and his bed.

Still, just the fact that he had been able to hold his own in a casual flirtation with a worldly woman who was half his age, put a quickness to his step and a sparkling smile on his face. Several people he met responded to his energy and smiled back at him with a cheerful word of greeting. At first, McCoy wondered what had caused total strangers to hail him so heartily, then he figured out that he had been the catalyst. That made him feel good all over. Yes, sir, this weekend jaunt was certainly working its magic on him! Why, here he was already, Mr. Personality Plus, and it had cost him were a couple of smiles!

He crashed on top of his bed and slept better than he had in a long time.

After an hour’s nap, McCoy felt refreshed and decided to hit the slopes again. He was beginning to know the ski trails on this mountain quite well. He hoped that the day’s warming trend didn’t make the snow too mushy or worse yet, cause an avalanche. Caution was always prudent, even at a well-maintained resort.

But that wasn't going to be his main concern! No, sirree! He was here to have fun!


	6. A Primitive Beast Rears Its Ugly Head In Our Erstwhile Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk and Scotty finally seek more nourishment than they can find in each other while Spock becomes irritated that he cannot sway McCoy's thinking with logic. So he tries a method that he believes will appeal to McCoy.  
> 

Kirk and Scotty still couldn’t quite take their eyes off each other when they finally stumbled out of the bedroom in the private suite behind the check-in desk that afternoon and went in search for food. A prolonged session of lovemaking is understandable after long separations between two people who are truly fond of each other, but the primitive needs of their bodies eventually will win out and force them to forsake the most agreeable of conjugal beds in order to replenish fuels needed to sustain basic bodily functions. In other words, Kirk and Scotty were going to have to eat before they were no longer viable entities in their environment.

“As they used to say back in Iowa when they were hungry for bacon or sausage, I could eat the ass end out of a hog and not even smell what perfumed up the mud hole,” Kirk informed Scotty with a tight-lipped smile.

“That’s not what I could eat the ass end out of,” Scotty lisped with burning eyes.

Kirk threw back his head and laughed heartily. He could come up with some vulgarities, but he loved to hear purple prose coming out of Scotty’s mouth. Just the idea of that elegant Scotsman stooping into the gutter for such words tickled Kirk’s sense for the absurd.

It also made Kirk extremely hot.

Scotty saw that flicker of bawdy lust in Kirk’s eyes and knew what it meant. That reaction was what he’d been after. A pleasant grin reflected Scotty’s sense of victory.

“There’s my sweet lad,” Scotty murmured in suggestive tones and turned Kirk into quivering mush.

But Kirk was determined to fight the inclinations of both of them. “Damn it, Scotty! We just left the bedroom! I’m gonna have to eat, or there won’t be anything interesting left for you to fuck!”

“No danger of that, Jimmy, lad,” Scotty assured with him with eyes still blazing. “I will always manage to find something on you to love, even if there’s only a tiny piece of you left to touch.”

Kirk frowned at that image. If that was all that Scotty could find of him, that meant that he’d been blown all to hell somehow. Not anything that Kirk wanted to consider. If Scotty was going to be loving on him, Kirk wanted to be around to know about it. And to appreciate it. And to respond to it. Kirk was never the one to sit quietly back while a good time was being had, be it with fighting or drinking or making love.

“You would be my own little piece of Heaven, no matter how little of you I could find,” Scotty said dreamily.

Kirk grabbed Scotty’s arm and propelled him down the hallway toward the dining room. “I better get some food in you right away! You’re starting to hallucinate!” 

“Stoke up well, my dear laddie,” Scotty advised. “The night is coming on us fast.”

“Apparently not fast enough for you,” Kirk muttered, but a grin of expectation was tickling his lips. As he entered the dining room, he glanced around but saw few diners remaining. 

“Looks like we missed the vittles for now,” Scotty said with disappointment.

“Oh, I think not. There’s a waitress headed our way, and I do believe that I see Mr. Spock seated over there in that obscure corner. Shall we be sociable and go join him if he’ll permit it?” Kirk asked pleasantly.

Scotty wanted Kirk to himself, but sighed to himself and agreed with the new arrangements.

Spock was just finishing his solitary repast, but seemed pleased enough to see them. Maybe he sensed that he could leave at any time if he so desired and he wouldn’t be able to do that if he was just beginning his meal.

After the waitress took their orders, Kirk turned. “Well, Mr. Spock, what have you been doing with yourself today? Your complexion seems to have a marked rosy glow to it, as if you have been out in our bracing air for a good part of the morning.”

“That I have, Captain,” he answered, pleased that he could participate in the “small talk” that seemed to consume so much of the time for Americans. “I skied over the mountain to Les Voiles Blanches and learned that it has daily commuter plane service instead of twice weekly which you receive here."

"Planning on leaving us at a moment's notice?" Kirk asked with a sharp look that betrayed his slight annoyance.

"Just inquiring. I prefer to be well informed."

Kirk raised an eyebrow, but let the comment pass.

Spock continued. "I also visited the historic quarter of the city and found it to be quite informative, also. It was an early French settlement in this area and supplied several influential politicians to the provincial government at Quebec City.” He gave it the proper French pronunciation of “ka” instead of “qw.” 

Of course he would know how to pronounce it correctly, Scotty thought as he pinched his lips together.

Kirk simply marveled at Spock’s vast array of interests and knowledge. “Never get bored, do you?” Kirk asked with as much awe as gentle teasing.

“I try to apply myself, Jim. I find the history of this area to be fascinating, and I quite like the challenge of exploring a different ski trail which I managed to do this morning.”

That reminded Kirk of something, and he frowned. “Be cautious on that side trail, Mr. Spock. It’s prone to avalanches, especially this time of the year when the daytime temperatures warm up. We get more snow up above the tree line, I’m told, so there’s quite a snow pack by the time that Spring rolls around. Just ask about conditions up on the mountain before you take that trail again.”

“I will do that, Captain,” Spock answered pleasantly. “I appreciate the warning.”

"Just remember that if you're ever in an avalanche to grasp your hands in front of you to form a pocket of air for you to breathe until you are rescued. Also, if you get disoriented and don't know which direction to dig to get out, spit and see where it lands. That will be down and not the way that you want to dig."

"I will remember all of those hints." His voice sounded bored, though.

Kirk was disturbed by Spock's lack of concern about the seriousness of what Kirk was telling him. "Just remember that you can't outrun an avalanche. Some have escaped injury or even death by skiing to the side, though. This information is for your own good."

"I did not mean to sound patronizing, Captain. I have been skiing since I was a child. Southeastern Europe is famous for its mountains."

Kirk's face cleared. "Of course. I should have realized that."

"I appreciate your concern, though. I will be most careful when I ski as I do not wish to worry you," he promised graciously.

"That makes me feel better," Kirk said with obvious relief. “That makes two of you who have been using our trails today,” Kirk remarked. “I understand that Dr. McCoy was interested in getting in a lot of skiing, too. Did you happen to see him out on the slopes?”

“No, I did not,” Spock answered. “I believe that he was going to stay on this side of the mountain. I did have the pleasure of visiting with him at breakfast, though.”

“Oh?” Kirk asked as his eyes lit up. “Were you filling him in more about the space program? Did he act interested in joining Starfleet?”

“Actually, our discussion centered more on my anatomy.”

“I hope he didn’t make you uncomfortable by getting too personal.”

“On the contrary. Dr. McCoy was conducting a scientific inquiry about my visible inherited genetic traits which deviate radically from the norm: my green-tinted blood and my pointed ears in particular. I did not mind being a guinea pig, as it were, in the pursuit of someone's knowledge.”

“You are being quite generous. So, he expressed no further opinion to you about Starfleet, though?” Kirk wanted to know.

“Not to me. The subject did not come up.”

“Scotty?” Kirk asked, turning to him.

“I cannae say that he was very enthusiastic about the plan when I last spoke with him last night.”

“Maybe he just needs more encouragement,” Kirk suggested with a smile.

“I do so wish he could get interested in something that would joy back into his life," Scotty confided. "He is needing just something, or someone for himself. But I dunna know if being in space is the answer,” Scotty said with a thick brogue as thick as the Highlands as he shook his head. “I dunna know, Captain. The man can get set in his ways, if I must say so meself. He just did not seem that positive about the Starfleet plans. He likes his feet on the ground, as it were. I do believe that plane ride up here made him a little nervous, especially that computer plane to this resort. He just might not have the right mindset for space travel.”

Spock knew what that meant. If McCoy wasn’t interested, then Scotty wouldn’t be. And if Scotty wasn’t joining, then Kirk might be doubtful, too. It was all a house of cards with McCoy being the underlying supporting foundation. If he left, the cards would fall. And Spock’s plan would fail to have Kirk back with him again. Spock had few friends and Kirk was one of them. But beyond that, Spock believed in Kirk as a leader. If Spock was left on his own to join Starfleet, he would probably turn his back on it and go back to Ukraine to assume the family responsibilities that his father wanted him to shoulder. But that was not where Spock’s heart lay. It resided instead with Kirk and a resumption of the adventures they had known in the Air Force. How could it all fall apart because of one pig-headed doctor?!

Spock thought that he had McCoy won over after sharing breakfast with him. The two had gotten along rather famously and seemed to stimulate intellectualism in each other. It was pleasing to participate in a discussion with someone of such high intelligence and varied interests. Spock might even find McCoy to be a worthy debate opponent, and he could not say that about just anybody.

The man seemed to be highly principled besides being highly intelligent and skillful in his work. Spock had never forgotten the admiration and respect he had felt for McCoy when he had treated Kirk and had been so protective of both of them. He had never forgotten the feel of McCoy's gentle hands on him, either. Even after all of this time, he still recalled the fingers leaving bars of heat on his flesh.

Maybe the memory of those burning fingers had been one reason why he had taken in McCoy's figure this morning. No harm in looking, Spock figured. He even sensed that McCoy had a sexual interest in him, too. There might be the spark of something that could grow between them. All it might take would be a little encouragement from Spock. And availability, of course.

Say, if they were serving together on the same starship.

Then it all fell into place for Spock like the last piece of an intricate puzzle, especially after what Scotty had said about McCoy needing something of his own.

Or someone.

Spock could use McCoy’s interest in him to his advantage right now. Maybe paying more attention to McCoy could reap big results. Surely he could provide those, Spock thought as the shadow of a smile floated over his dark features.

He hadn't much time, though. McCoy and Scott were leaving tomorrow. That meant that Spock had to act quickly. Maybe even bizarrely. But emergencies called for hasty decisions, not carefully thought out ones.

At soon as he could, he left Scotty and Kirk to their luncheon and headed for the ski trails himself. The other two were so wrapped up in each other that they barely noticed when Spock left.

That was alright, also.

Leonard McCoy stopped at the edge of the stand of pine trees he was about to enter and looked back down the ski trail. The sun was shining on the snow like millions of diamonds had been scattered in a field of fluffy meringues. It was a sight to behold, but he was happy that he was wearing sunglasses to ward off the glare. He breathed deeply and enjoyed the sharp tang of pine in his nostrils. But more than that, he felt vigorous and alive and ready for anything. What a glorious feeling!

Then he squinted as he realized that someone was fast approaching behind him on the trail. Something about the person seemed familiar, so McCoy shoved up his sunglasses and waited.

The skier slid to a stop, then pushed up his own sunglasses. “Good afternoon, Dr. McCoy. I thought that was you.”

Had the guy been following him? “Mr. Spock. What a coincidence that we are using the same trail.”

“Not really,” Spock had to admit (although he wouldn’t voice his real motive). “I spotted your bright red scarf."

"I'm wearing it in recognition of the Kansas City Chiefs. They just won the Super Bowl again."

"How supportive."

McCoy shrugged. "Hey, they're the 'come back kids.' What can I say? You gotta admire their ability to pull wins out of their asses like that when they're losing the game and it's the fourth quarter. Hard on everybody else, though."

"I suppose." It was obvious that Spock wanted to talk about something besides professional football. He apparently could not think of a smooth blend between subjects, so he simply plunged in as if he had lost some of his carefully maintained patience. "When I saw the scarf ahead of me, I hoped it was you.”

McCoy felt a little lurch to his heart. The guy wanted to spend time with him?!

McCoy managed a slow smile that hid the surprising amount of eagerness that he felt welling up inside him. “I also thought that the bright red would make me more noticeable in the snow in case someone was trying to find me.”

“And it worked. Because I found you.”

McCoy’s grin grew shyer. “Well, I was thinking more in terms of the Ski Patrol locating my body if I got caught in an avalanche, but your finding me works okay, too, I guess. Company’s always welcome out here. It might be enjoyable to share this experience with someone.”

“Exactly my way of thinking. I thought that we might have the opportunity to chat further.”

“We have all this evening back at the resort,” McCoy suggested amiably.

“But this is more intimate, would you not agree? We have less chance of being interrupted, and I so wanted to have you all to myself.”

What the f---?! So it wasn’t just McCoy’s imagination or wishful thinking?! The guy had come out here to, to HIT on him?!

“I-- I-- beg your pardon?” McCoy gasped out in seemingly overwhelmed shock, but unaccountably stirred by the guy’s blatantness, also.

Spock skied closer and gave McCoy a hard, serious look. “Do not be obtuse, Doctor. Surely you noticed the pull of attraction between us.”

“I-- I don’t know what you mean,” McCoy manage to stammer out with his heart in his throat and his eyes wildly staring.

“Us, Doctor. You and I.” Spock stepped closer and spoke in a husky voice, “Surely you know that there is more in our future than just this weekend.”

“I--”

“Tell me that you do,” Spock insisted, crowding into McCoy’s body. “I will not be content until you do.”

“Well, I…. Well, maybe I hoped that there might be, ah, something else….” He allowed his voice to trail off.

“All I need is some encouragement that I do not wish in vain.”

“Well, I--”

“Perhaps this will help to focus your thoughts on me better.” And with that, Spock pulled McCoy into his arms and gave him a hearty kiss on the lips.

Spock pulled McCoy against himself and held him as tightly as bulky ski wear would allow. He gently pressed his lips against McCoy's for several moments to let McCoy know of his interest and to hint that there might be something more offered in the future. In fact, his secret interests were more than ready to be expressed, and McCoy would be a fool to turn Spock aside.

Such blatant persistence got more of a result than even Spock had anticipated. It turned out that Leonard McCoy was more than receptive for Spock's direct approach.

For although the kiss had been softly applied, it seared through McCoy's sex-deprived body like rain on a parched desert floor. Its sweetness filled him with a yearning and hunger he hadn't felt in years. McCoy trembled as raw passion surged through him, then he whimpered in surrender as he suddenly snaked his hands up Spock's chest and flung his arms around Spock's neck. Without thought of consequence or pride, he braced against Spock's body and deepened the kiss. He was more than willing to let Spock know he was receptive to however far Spock wanted to take all of what was happening between them. Because McCoy sure as hell wasn't going to be holding anything back. Not now. Not ever.

McCoy might regret his lack of reserve later, but right now he was consumed with feeling, and he wasn't about to let loose of this handy bit of temptation that had literally been gifted to him. He was a man of passion who had controlled himself for far too long, and he was more than willing to let the other guy know that much about him. Spock might be losing his respect for McCoy by the minute, but nothing else mattered as long as McCoy did not lose the guy in his arms anytime soon.

The kiss might've been Spock's idea, but it was McCoy that kept it running as long as it did. If anything, Spock was slightly stunned by his success.

It was amazing that ski poles did not get in their way, but everything worked remarkably smoothly. All that McCoy was aware of were those magical lips on his and how they warmed him clear down to the ends of his toes.

“That was, ah, a remarkable way to focus my attention,” McCoy had to admit as his gloved hands worked on Spock’s biceps despite Spock's down-filled jacket.

“Until we can see each other later, I will leave you with this reminder,” Spock promised as he pulled McCoy’s body hard against him again.

As if he needed any reminder, McCoy thought a few moments later as he skied away and felt Spock’s eyes burning into his back. No wonder the old song of love's enchantment began blaring in McCoy’s head again. He had indeed found love out on a ski trail that afternoon. And his heart wanted to glory in the magic of it as well as the rest of him for the words seemed to echo his love story.

“Once I was alone  
So lonely and then,  
You came out of nowhere,  
Like the sun up from the hills.

Cold, cold was the wind.  
Warm, warm were your lips.  
Out there, on that ski trail  
Where your kiss filled me with thrills."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Kansas City Chiefs are mentioned in recognition of their Super Bowl LIV win.


	7. A Night Made In Heaven But Not By The Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still frustrated that he cannot change McCoy's mind about Starfleet, Spock tries the ultimate method of persuasion to win him over.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Let's all celebrate with this romantic chapter as Spock and McCoy discover love!

The four of them met for supper in the private quarters of the resort again. The room was intimate and cozy with the roaring fire. McCoy soon grew drowsy in the warm room, though, with the low cadence of soft voices as the men chatted intimately among themselves. If the topic of conversation wouldn't have been space travel, McCoy would've been able to find it a perfect evening quietly spent in agreeable male companionship.

“Are we boring you, Dr. McCoy?” Kirk asked at last with a tight-lipped grin. He liked all eyes and ears to be on him when he spoke, and he had distinctly seen McCoy’s eyelids fluttering during his last soliloquy on diplomacy when contacting space aliens. Granted, a lot of what Kirk was proposing was hypothetical, but he still preferred his listeners' undivided attention.

Alien contact and how it was conducted was going to be a huge part of space travel and would probably account for a large portion of the success or failure of the proposed space program. Fighting the bad guys sounded glorious and adventuresome, but it was going to be diplomacy and understanding that would clear paths for beings on other planets in the future. Therefore, good relationships would certainly make many aspects of space exploration and eventual colonization easier. And this gathering, even though it was a social occasion, had the undertones of a captain addressing his officers.

“Sorry, Captain,” McCoy replied. It was so natural to drift into calling Kirk that, especially since McCoy heard Spock and Scotty doing so. “I guess all of the exercise I got while skiing has tired me out.”

“Well, it didn’t help your appetite any,” Kirk noted with a bit of annoyance heard in his voice. “That lobster was shipped in special for our meal this evening.”

“Sorry,” McCoy apologized. It was true that the lobster was delicious and had been cooked to perfection. But McCoy had other appetites licking at him this evening. And it certainly did not help that the cause of those sharp appetites was seated across from him and staring at him constantly without blinking. ‘You’ll dry out your eyeballs unless you blink more often!’ McCoy wanted to yell across the table at him, but didn’t. Surely the exotic guy whose body was riddled with all sorts of strange anomalies that seemed to suit him just fine would know how far he could go with endangering his precious eyesight. 

What had McCoy concerned and expectant was what this odd stranger had meant on that ski trail this afternoon when he had informed McCoy, “Until we can see each other later” and sealed the promise with a kiss. (Why was he thinking of old love songs, McCoy wanted to know. First “Canadian Sunset” and now “Sealed With A Kiss.” What kind of a starry-eyed teenage girl was he, anyway?!)

Later. Until we can see each other later. What did that all mean, McCoy wondered as he felt his heart flutter in anticipation.

“It’s obvious that your attention isn’t with us tonight, Bones,” Kirk complained as he noticed that McCoy wasn't following him.

“Sorry,” McCoy apologized again as he stifled another yawn. He pulled himself out of his easy chair. That chair had been part of the problem, McCoy realized. “Maybe I just better go on up to bed. ‘Night,” he mumbled as he weaved away.

“Will he be okay?” Kirk wanted to know with a frown.

“I have seen him weaving much worse from an evening of drinking,” Scotty replied. “Of course, that was from drinking and not something healthy like exercise. I dinna know if he can stay on his feet under this kind of circumstance.”

Seeing an opportunity, Spock hopped to his feet. “Maybe I should see that he gets to his room safely.”

“Wait a minute, Spock,” Kirk said. “Did you get to talk to him any this afternoon after the Starfleet proposition? He didn’t have much of anything to say about it this evening, so I was hoping that you could’ve been a little bit more persuasive with your arguments.”

Spock frowned. “Apparently not as effectively as I thought I had. If you will excuse me, Captain, Mr. Scott,” he said formally as he headed for the door. “I will see how I can be of further assistance to Dr. McCoy. Perhaps I will also have the opportunity to discuss the Starfleet proposition further with him.”

“That would be nice. Have a good night!” Kirk called after Spock as the door closed on Spock who did not give any indication that he had even heard Kirk since Spock did not reply.

Kirk turned to Scotty with a lazy grin and his bedroom eyes smoking. “I thought they’d never leave. Kinda aware of you smoldering away over there all by yourself.”

“Aye!” Scotty rolled his eyes. "I can feel your body under me even as we speak. I am ready to make it a fact, and you can take that for gospel." He was in extreme anticipation, too.

“Well, then, shall we shut the world away if this is the last chance we have at each other for awhile?” Kirk asked amiably as he slapped his hands on his knees and jumped to his feet.

“Aye!” Scotty rolled his eyes again, but did not know if it was in awe of the strenuous night in front of him or the coming separation from Kirk tomorrow after which only Heaven knew when, or even if, they would be blessed with any further meetings in their future.

McCoy stumbled to the door and seemed to perk up when he saw who it was. “Spock! You came!”

“I told you I would,” Spock mumbled as he slipped inside the room, then checked the empty hallway again before he closed the door.

“Sorry that I’m so sleepy tonight,” McCoy apologized, stifling a yawn. “I guess I’m finally relaxing.”

“The mountain air can work wonders on the human body, I am told,” Spock said as he turned his full attention on McCoy. The guy before him looked frazzled and completely pliable. And completely willing to accept whatever the night may offer. Spock felt a lurch inside himself that he wasn’t expecting. Where had that come from?

“I think that you must have had something to do with that,” McCoy said with a gentle smile that showed Spock how much trust and faith he had in him. “I gotta admit, I haven’t thought about much of anything else except what happened between us out on that ski trail. You took me completely by surprise.”

“How so?” Spock wanted to know. “Surely you know that you are a very desirable person.”

McCoy winced at the words as if they were causing him pain, but they were actually bittersweet to him. “Nobody has said anything that nice and special to me in a long time.”

“Then it is about time that you heard them again.” Spock took a step toward him.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to us tonight,” McCoy remarked, his sleepiness suddenly gone. “But I think I’m ready to find out.”

“I know that I am,” Spock lisped as he gathered McCoy into his arms and kissed him deeply.

“Wow!” McCoy said as he finally broke the kiss. “Where have you been all my life? And why did I find you only to lose you again?”

“Tomorrow does not have to be goodbye for us,” Spock said reasonably.

McCoy frowned, some of the romantic mood suddenly gone. He pulled out of Spock’s arms. “You’re talking about Starfleet again, aren’t you?” 

“It would be a logical answer to our problem. We could all be together.”

“Yeah, but all together in space. I don’t know if I’m ready to take that big of a step. Maybe something smaller, like teaching at Starfleet Academy. Veterans with experience will be welcomed there, too.”

Except Jim Kirk would never fly a desk when he could fly a starship. “It would be a fantastic opportunity for all of us," Spock said reasonably. "We would be vital again, not existing on the sidelines and wishing something exciting would happen to us.”

“I don’t know--” McCoy said as he turned away.

This called for an increase in persuasion. Spock took a step and pressed his body firmly against McCoy's back.

McCoy gasped. He hadn't known that Spock was right behind him. Not only was he behind him, he was apparently excited to be behind him because McCoy could feel a very definite bulge pressing eagerly into his buttock.

McCoy gulped. Was that all for him?!

Please let it be!

“Let me give you a sample of what could be between us,” Spock murmured in his ear. He could feel McCoy vibrating against him. The guy was more than ready for intimacy. Spock could feel McCoy's hunger through his skin. McCoy's yearning want had been suppressed for far too long. All that Spock had to do was to demand it from him.

McCoy leaned against Spock’s chest and let himself bask in Spock’s promise for a moment. All that he wanted was being offered to him by an extremely desirable man. It would be so heavenly to surrender to Spock and to know that he could keep on doing it for as long as he wanted. All he had to do was to agree.

“No,” McCoy protested weakly and pushed himself forward.

“I will not allow you to simply walk away from me.” His voice of authority rang through the room and made McCoy feel weak from need and want.

Still McCoy managed to resist. “Well, I am. But since it's my room, you'll have to be the one to leave. I'm sorry that we've had a misunderstanding so soon in our relationship, but this just better stop before it goes any-- Spock! What the hell?!” he protested as Spock pressed against him again, but more urgently than before. Spock's roughness startled him. "What are you doing?! Stop it!"

But this time Spock didn’t stop shoving until he had McCoy’s frontside plastered against the wall. McCoy’s hands automatically flew up and landed palms down on the wall above his head. He fought to keep his balance in the awkward position as much as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

Before McCoy could protest further, Spock gripped McCoy’s clothing at the waist and ripped his trousers and skivvies down McCoy's body to puddle around his feet.

Cold air hit the length of McCoy’s lower body from his waist to his ankles. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Stop this immediately and let me go!”

“I am not doing anything to you that you do not want me to do," Spock whispered hotly in McCoy's ear. "You know that this is going to happen just the same as I am. If you wish, you can still walk away from me. If you can."

"As I said before, this is my room," McCoy remarked, hoping to enter a note of levity to the scene and therefore establish some normalcy, some sanity. "You will have to be the one to leave."

"My walking out now would be only a physical action, and you know very well that we are involved emotionally. You do not wish for me to leave. I know that and so do you."

McCoy could not deny it. The damn bastard was right. If Spock left now, McCoy would keep his pride. But nothing else.

"I thought not. Now lift one of your feet so I can get rid of your clothing. I want to get at you properly.”

When McCoy obeyed, Spock kicked McCoy’s puddled clothing until it swirled on the other side of the foot he hadn’t raised. Then Spock shoved a knee with force between McCoy’s naked hips which bent McCoy's knees and splayed them far apart. It spread open his crotch and left his whole bottom quite exposed and defenseless. McCoy’s body slid down the wall while his hands grappled for something to grip high above his head. His fingers gripped wide like a spider navigating a slick mirror and gave him the illusion that they were controlling his awkward balance. 

“Do not move,” Spock warned. “Remain in that semi-crouched position. It opens you up more.” He began to work with himself.

“I feel as awkward as a damn duck in the latter stages of laying an egg!” McCoy protested, fighting back the shivers as he thought about how open his lower body was. That part of him was never open like this. It was unnatural. And his whole system trembled in revulsion about what was to happen to him. He was going to be violated in the most demeaning way possible, yet McCoy knew-- and he knew that Spock knew-- that McCoy would not walk away. He couldn't.

McCoy could feel Spock's rapid hand movements behind him and knew that Spock was stroking his penis into full erection. McCoy gulped as he felt the rock-hard organ tapping against the soft flesh between his legs and knew that Spock would not have to make much more effort. McCoy's system churned with outraged denial of what was about to happen to him, but he could not have stopped proceedings even if he'd wanted. For the shameful truth was, he wanted Spock to do this thing to him. He wanted it the worst way possible.

“It will not be long. I am about prepared. I do not wish to cheat us out of anything. Here, suck on this if you need after I start.”

And the next moment McCoy’s pullover sweater and tee-shirt had been shoved up his back, over his head, and left bunched in front of his face. His arms were still fully clothed from his shoulders to his wrists, but the rest of him was naked except for one foot with a massive puddle of clothing swirled around it. He had to have looked like a demented five-year-old child had dressed her dolly in some bizarre way that made sense to only her.

“What in blue blazin’ hell do you think you are doing?!” McCoy protested, feeling as silly as he probably looked.

“I am going to take you now, Doctor,” Spock hissed in his ear as he massaged McCoy’s bare back with his strong, long fingers. “And you are going to let me. You are going to let me because you want this as much as I do.”

McCoy shivered from the stroking fingers, his naked defenselessness, and Spock’s words.

Spock was right. McCoy wanted this thing to happen. He wanted Spock to take him. And he wanted to know what it was to surrender his heart and soul to the control of someone else.

Then McCoy felt Spock wedge something into his anus and begin pounding it inside him. McCoy gritted his teeth, but met every thrust with relish. Spock was doing this to him! And McCoy wanted it!

Soon McCoy was caught up in passion as Spock raked his finger nails up and down McCoy’s naked back as he continued to thrust into him. The tiny scratches only excited McCoy further, and soon both he and Spock climaxed.

“Will you be alright?” Spock finally murmured as he stepped back and left McCoy trembling against the wall.

Only then did McCoy realize that he was shaking uncontrollably. “I feel like I’m going to be ill.”

“Here, let me help you to the bed,” Spock offered as he grasped McCoy’s arm and kicked McCoy’s clothing aside so he wouldn’t trip on it.

“I don’t think I can walk.”

Spock frowned. “I hurt you that badly?”

“I just feel faint and light-headed.”

Spock scooped McCoy up into his arms. McCoy shivered and shrunk into a ball against Spock's chest. Spock frowned and carried him to the bed where he pulled off McCoy’s sweater and drew the sheets up over him.

“Where are you going?” McCoy demanded as Spock started to move away.

“I will sit over here and watch while you rest. Do not worry. I will not leave you.”

But McCoy wanted him closer. He lifted up the covers. “Stay with me. In here. Please.”

Spock complied and McCoy immediately snuggled against him and sighed.

Spock gently planted a kiss on McCoy's temple, but did not realize it until McCoy murmured, "That was nice."

It had seemed so natural, Spock realized as he examined his motives for that unconscious kiss. Was this what it was like, then, to act without thinking, especially without thinking of consequences? Always before, Spock had tried to form his decisions after careful thought. He tried to assemble pros and cons of an issue, study a problem from all angles, and then make a logical decision that seemed the most prudent. That did not seem to be the case now. Despite the time constraints, he should have come up with a better plan. Surely he could have persuaded McCoy without giving McCoy the coitus that Spock sensed he secretly desired.

Spock frowned. Was it possible that he himself had been reacting with an emotional response? Was it possible that he had wanted intercourse with McCoy as much as McCoy had?

“I am so happy,” McCoy confessed. "That was so good."

Spock tried to focus on McCoy. “But you are sore.”

“It’s the first time a man has ever had me.”

“It is the first time I have ever had a man.”

“I hope that you are as happy as I am." McCoy pulled his head back to look at Spock. His face and eyes were glowing with joy. "Oh, Spock, I cannot believe that it was so wonderful to be with you. I want to do it again.”

That really surprised Spock. “But you are still sore. I would irritate you further,” he tried to argue reasonably.

“I’ve got some lube in the bedside drawer.”

Spock was suspicious. “You brought lubricant with you? You thought something like this could happen? I thought you said that you have never done anything like this before.”

“I haven’t. The lube is for my face in case I got chapped skin while skiing,” McCoy confessed. “I never thought I’d have another use for it, but now I’m sure glad that I brought it along." He gave Spock a flirty smirk. "With luck, it might last us most of the night.”

Spock looked startled. “How often do you plan on us doing this exercise?”

“Until the lube wears out, or we do.” He gazed happily at Spock’s unbelieving face. “We’ll take our time. We don’t have to be as frantic or as brutal as we were the first time. It’s gonna be good between us, Spock. I just now it,” McCoy promised. “Because that’s how we want it and because we’re both worth it. Now, get out that lube and grease up good, darlin.’ Because I’ve got something waiting for you that I think you’re gonna like real fine. It’s all heated and rearing to go. Just like I am.”

Spock smiled at him shyly. “How could I wish for anything more?”

“That’s right,” McCoy lisped in his best Southern drawl as he closed his eyes and drew Spock closer to him.

What was a guy to do? Spock reached for the lube while he was still able to think straight enough to be patient and considerate.

So the gentle sex continued until the wee hours of the morning. They would doze after a session, then awake refreshed to make love to each other again.

By morning McCoy was certain that they were in love. How could anything possibly be different for them?


	8. Caught In His Own Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock succeeds too well and realizes that McCoy has fallen in love with him. But Spock cannot handle being responsible for someone else's heart and wants out. He fears that McCoy will hate him for what he has done.

The next morning, Spock sat on the edge of the bed staring down at Leonard McCoy lightly dozing, thereby unwittingly recreating the similar scene of Montgomery Scott watching Jim Kirk awakening in a similar bed just twenty-four hours before.

McCoy began stirring, then opened his eyes and wreathed his face in a tired, but happy smile as he tenderly took in the sight of his new lover looming over him. “Hey, there,” he lisped softly. “You’re about the prettiest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

“Odd, I was thinking the same thing about you.”

“You silver-tongued devil.”

Spock allowed himself a small smile. “I am inspired by what I am observing.”

McCoy grinned, then grimaced as he moved his legs.

“Sore?” Spock wanted to know, the true depth of his concern not showing on his immobile features.

“Yeah, but it’s a good kind of sore, you know? Like I said, I ain’t never had anybody do that to me before. Now I'm kinda glad that I waited for the right one to come along. And, boy, was it worth the wait,” he confessed breathlessly and betrayed how much he had been affected by the whole experience.

That didn't make Spock feel as good as McCoy had intended. Instead, Spock's feelings of guilt deepened. “I find that I might have to apologize for some of my lustiness last night. I fear that I might not have had complete control of myself at all times.”

McCoy reached out and stroked Spock’s nearest bare arm. “Oh, darlin,’” McCoy lisped. “I ain’t apologizing for anything I did, and don't you dare, either. It’s been a long time since I let myself go like that. That’s why I’m all smiles this morning. And to think that I made you lose some control over yourself, too-- Well, that just adds to my happiness.”

Spock breathed deeply. “Thank you. That alleviates some of the trepidation I am experiencing.”

“Don’t feel bad about what happened. You didn’t take advantage of me. Why, for all you know, I might’ve been using you to have a one-night stand as the grand finale for a weekend vacation. Ram, bam, thank you, ma’am. No strings attached, no regrets. Now back to my real life with no lingering backward glances or wistful thoughts to trouble my future dreams. Out of sight, out of mind.”

Spock looked a little startled. “Is that what you will do? Go back to your university life and forget me?”

McCoy stroked Spock’s arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll be thinking of you long after this weekend is over. You’re a helluva salesman, Spock. You’re even making space look better to me.”

“I am?”

“Sure. When we serve together on the same starship, you’ll be in space to help fill in some of its emptiness for me. It’s the nothingness of space that I object to.” He thought about that statement for a moment. “And the fact that there isn’t much wiggle room for error when you’re in it. It can crush you, split you asunder, boil you in your skin, suck the oxygen outa your system in the flash of a moment, and that's just for starters. You gotta respect space, because she’s a haughty bitch who will heartily snap the life outa all the fools who don’t pay her the proper homage and attention she demands.”

“And I can make that difference in your thinking about space?”

“I’m thinking that you can make the difference in my thinking about life.” He let Spock mull that over for a moment. “I’ve been stuck in neutral ever since I got out of the Air Force. So has Scotty. Now we have the opportunity to revitalize ourselves, and we owe it all to you and Jim.”

Spock looked startled.

“That makes you two pretty special in my book, and it probably does in Scotty's, too.” 

"Mr. Scott is easily influenced by Captain Kirk?"

"Mr. Scott would walk over live coals just to get Captain's Kirk's attention and then apologize for the stench of burning flesh if he thought it might bother Kirk's fine sensibilities," McCoy replied with great emphasis so Spock would understand how profound one person can be in awe of someone else.

"That does not seem to make their relationship equal."

"Scotty does not mind. Believe me."

Spock just continued to look stunned.

"But that's their business, and I'm interested in us right now." McCoy reached up, hooked his arm around Spock’s neck, and pulled his head down to him. “Hey, I’m wanting a little bit of attention. Focus on me instead of whatever will-of-the-wisp is dancing in front of your eyes so enticingly. I'm right here, darlin.'”

“What? Oh, sorry.” Spock looked down at him.

“I’ll never be able to tell you how fond of you I am,” McCoy murmured. He pulled Spock's head the rest of the way to him and settled his soft lips on Spock’s.

It would've been logical to have assumed that some of their passion had cooled after the night they'd shared. But that wasn't the case.

For when their lips met again, it was like a whirlwind had caught them up. Even with bruised lips, the kiss was still thrilling. It managed to divert their attention nicely from most anything else in life. Even logic.

For a moment, Spock allowed himself to be drawn down into the wonderment that was Leonard McCoy. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe the promise and the passion that were waiting for him. For a moment, Spock allowed himself to be in love.

But then, Spock pulled himself away from Leonard McCoy’s arms.

McCoy frowned. “Spock? What’s wrong?”

“We have no time for this.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, the day is advancing without us. We cannot tarry. We must advance with it.”

McCoy grinned. “Boy, if that’s my influence that’s got you talking gibberish, it’s a helluva compliment.”

Spock looked puzzled. “What?”

“Never mind,” McCoy said, throwing back the covers. “I understood what you were trying to say, despite the Victorian floweriness that was dressing it up. And you’re right. But I have another way of saying it. Daylight’s burning.”

“Daylight’s burning?” Spock repeated, his puzzlement deepening.

“That’s right. And it's high time that we were burning leather." He continued briskly before Spock could ask about the second idiom. "Now, get outa here so I can get something done. Otherwise, we’ll be spending the whole day in bed.”

Spock looked hopeful.

“No!” McCoy declared, laughing. “Now, get the hell outa here while I’ve still got the strength to send you away!”

Spock got. He didn’t want to test the strength of either one of them. He feared that they both would come up short in the courage and fortitude departments.

The morning was going quite well for Jim Kirk. After breakfast, Scotty had gone upstairs to his rarely used room to pack, but both Scotty and Kirk had high hopes that their upcoming separation would not be permanent. A visit from an enthusiastic McCoy at breakfast had left them both feeling optimistic about the future.

“Come,” Kirk called to the knock at the private quarters behind the check-in desk, then he beamed as a reserved-looking Spock entered the door. “Mr. Spock! So good to see you! Come in! Come in! Have a seat! I’ll call for some coffee and we’ll have us a real nice chinwag!” 

“Begging your pardon, Captain, I would rather not wag my chin or anything else at the moment. There is no time for something like that. Besides, I do not know how to wag my chin."

Kirk stared levelly at Spock. "You gotta be kidding, right?" He had to ask, despite the fact that Spock looked deadly serious.

"No, there really is no time. I wanted to ask you something."

"I meant--" But did he really want to get into a discussion about idioms? Especially with Spock? Something told Kirk that the only thing to come out of such a discussion would be frustration. "Never mind. How may I help you?"

"I was looking for Dr. McCoy. Have you seen him?”

Kirk relaxed. “I did. A little while ago. And he was about as happy as you are dour. Seems he’s pretty excited about burning his bridges behind him and signing up for Starfleet. That means that nothing will be standing in Scotty’s way of joining Starfleet, either. He was worried about leaving McCoy behind, but now that doesn't seem to be a problem anymore.” Kirk grinned and even managed a wink. “I think I have you to thank for McCoy’s change of mind, don't I?” Kirk’s grin deepened with warmth.

“I did visit with him about it,” Spock answered, although he acted as if he was in deep pain to do so.

“I don’t know exactly what you said to him, but it must have been pretty persuasive. He’s pretty fired up about our future together.”

“That is what I wished to discuss with you. I feel that I might have left the wrong impression with him. I fear that he might be expecting something in the future that I should not provide.”

“Come on, Spock. Bones McCoy is a big boy. He won’t be misled by whatever you said or did.”

Spock looked extremely ill at ease. “I fear that he has assumed that joining the corps will entitle him to certain, ah, personal benefits and that I will be the one who will be providing those, ah, said personal benefits.” Confessing his clandestine activities did not alleviate Spock’s discomfort any. If fact, he seemed more agitated than ever as he looked to Kirk for help.

Kirk frowned with thought. "How personal are we talking here?"

"Very," Spock answered with discomfort. He braced for the tongue-lashing that he deserved and secretly wanted.

Instead, Kirk gave him a knowing glance. “You old dog! You took him to bed, didn’t you?! Using the old 'friendly persuasion' technique, eh?”

Spock studied his feet. “Yes, and I am thoroughly ashamed of myself. He is a good person and does not deserve what I have done.”

Spock’s discomfort sobered Kirk. “Oh, Spock, you’re having a crisis of conscience, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and I do not wish for him to think that I did it just to get him to join the corps. I want him to know that I did it also because I wanted to. No plans for Starfleet are worth hurting him. I will give it all up completely before I will allow that to happen. I perceive that he has known great personal suffering in his life. I do not wish to harm him further that way.”

"How much of a problem of conscience is this for you?"

"Quite conflicting, I must confess," Spock replied, his discomfort mounting. "I find that I have deep feelings for him which I do not wish to jeopardize with misunderstandings."

Kirk sucked in his breath. “Oh, hell!"

Spock looked puzzled. "What is it, Captain? What is wrong with me?"

"You’ve fallen in love with him! I don't know how it could happen so fast, but you have been gobsmacked so hard that Cupid must've used a whole quiver of arrows on you! Your heart must look like a damn pincushion 'cause it's so full of arrows!”

Spock was amazed. "Really? I am in love?"

Kirk grinned. "I can almost a hundred percent affirm that's what's happened. You've just never had any experience with the condition before. That's your problem. Believe me, love can turn your guts inside out and make you wish that you'd never been born. And that can be the upside of it."

Spock sighed. “If that is what this is, I can now understand how so many unhappy love songs come to be written about it. I thought that love would bring happiness to me, not this, this hopelessness and self-incrimination.”

“Oh, my dear friend, as another one of those old love songs says, you’ve got it bad and that ain’t good. You're ready to throw yourself on the trash pile, just so McCoy is sitting prettily on it. Just wait. He'll sigh in what you'll decide is anguish, and you'll break your neck to try to make everything better for him.”

"So that is why I am so concerned about his reaction to last night?"

"That's right."

Spock looked greatly troubled. "But he is so willing to join Starfleet because he knows it will please me. Despite his reservations about space, he is willing to ignore all of that for me. Why is he so blindly willing to do that?"

"Because he trusts you," Kirk said gently.

"But I have given him no reason for that trust." He grimaced. "Only sex."

"You have given him something to believe in, something to hope for."

"But I did not realize that I was doing that."

"It's not you, it's him. It's what happens when we love someone. We trust them because we want to. But the other person has to keep on earning that trust."

"It is such a responsibility."

"The other person has the same responsibility."

Spock got intense as he remembered his mission again. He had observed Kirk and Scotty together enough to know that Kirk did not seem as dedicated to their relationship as Kirk was. “That is why I wanted to warn you about Mr. Scott. Do not let him believe that you are courting him for the sole reason of getting him into Starfleet. Let him know that you care for him for other reasons, too.”

Kirk smiled. “He knows that. Thanks for the warning, though.”

“Let him know that you will love him first and the corps second.”

“Now, that is good advice. I probably do take him for granted sometimes. I should be more considerate of him, shouldn't I? There's not too many good people in the world who would put up with me.”

“I would not want you to jeopardize your relationship with him as I have my relationship with Dr. McCoy.”

“Spock, I think it isn’t as bad as you think. Talk to McCoy. Explain, as you have to me. He's a fair person.” Kirk lifted an eyebrow and gave Spock a knowing glance. "If I'm reading all of this right, he's probably got more than one reason to give you a fair hearing." His eyebrow arched higher. "Now."

“I do not know if I can find the right words. Not yet. My mind is too confused. I need to think all of this through, and I fear that any direction I go with an explanation now will only end in hurting him.”

"That's all that concerns you now, isn't it?" Kirk needed no answer, though. Spock's face was saying everything plainly enough. “Spock, as corny as it sounds, love always finds a way. You might not believe that right now, but it’s true.”

“Thank you for those wise and soothing words. Now I just need to find that way.” Tears sprinkled Spock’s eyes. “I do not wish to hurt him. I fear that he has suffered great personal losses in his life. I do not want to be the cause of another painful experience for him.”

“Just talk to him,” Kirk urged. “He’s a good person. He’ll listen.”

But as he left Kirk, Spock did not believe that he deserved another chance. Whatever he said or did at this point might hurt McCoy too deeply. Perhaps the kindest thing would be to drop the space program and get out of McCoy’s life as soon as possible. McCoy would be hurt, but not as much as if their relationship was permitted to grow and deepen any further than it already was.

With new determination, Spock knew what he must do.

Leave.

At once.

Kirk was waiting for Scotty to go to lunch when McCoy found him in the private quarters.

“Have you seen Spock?” McCoy wanted to know.

“He was here earlier. Didn’t he find you?”

“No. I’ve been out on the slopes, burning off nervous energy. It did some good.” His grin flashed. “But not completely. I’m still fired up about the future.”

Kirk looked concerned, then decided he needed to tell McCoy the truth. “Spock isn’t.”

McCoy frowned. “What do you mean?”

"He's had a change of heart. He seemed pretty emotional about the whole thing."

"He should." McCoy looked crestfallen and decided to be truthful, too. “We skipped a few steps in the relationship game and got intimate last night.”

“I figured as much.”

“I thought that was what he wanted. For us to be together in the future. And now you’re saying that he’s getting cold feet?”

“I got the idea that he wasn’t afraid of commitment. He just wanted a relationship with you for the right reason. I gathered that he isn’t feeling too proud of himself about the Starfleet idea. He as much as warned me not to do the same thing with Scotty. He didn’t want me to use sex to lure Scotty into Starfleet under false pretenses. He didn’t want me to hurt Scotty that way. Bones, Spock would rather give up the Starfleet plans than hurt you."

McCoy frowned, taking it all in. "Really?"

"He said so, Bones. I heard him. Nothing else was as important to him as your opinion of him. He's protecting you, but he's afraid that you won't believe his sincerity.”

McCoy’s eyes got big. “Oh, hell,” he said as he sucked in his breath. “He loves me! That unselfish bastard loves me!”

“Looks like it,” Kirk agreed with a grin.

McCoy glanced around eagerly. “Where is he?! I want to see him!”

“I told him to talk to you. I said you’d listen.”

“Damn straight! Anyone who is that concerned about my feelings will most certainly have my undivided attention! And anything else he's after! I'm sure as hell not gonna fight interest like that!”

Kirk grinned.

At that moment Scotty walked in. “Ready for lunch?”

“Scotty! Have you seen Spock?!” McCoy demanded.

“Odd you should ask. He’s done the most peculiar thing.”

“What do you mean?” Kirk prompted.

“I was talking with him a few minutes ago out in the hallway, but he acted furtive.”

“What do you mean?” Kirk pressed.

“He seemed sneaky and wouldn’t quite look at me. But the oddest part was what I noticed after he left.”

“What was that?!” McCoy prompted the guy who was trying his best to remember details, but being exceedingly slow about it.

“Why, his luggage was piled up with ours to get loaded on the afternoon plane. But it was addressed for some town in Ukraine, and I would’ve figured on San Francisco if that's where we're all headed. Odd, too, now that I think about it. He was wearing a backpack. Why would he be wearing a backpack if he was leaving here soon? Shouldn’t his backpack be with his regular luggage, too?”

“Not if he and most of his luggage were taking different trips,” McCoy mumbled as his mind quickly worked out the details.

“What are you getting at, Bones?”

“He couldn’t face me, so he wanted to leave fast. So he sent his luggage to Ukraine because he knows the Starfleet plan has fallen through.”

“It has?” Scotty asked, looking confused.

“I’ll explain later,” Kirk promised.

McCoy continued sorting out Spock's thinking. “Spock put necessities in a backpack to tide him over until he can rejoin his luggage." He looked up and stared into Kirk's eyes. "Because he’s leaving the only way he can get out of here today without seeing me.”

“The daily commuter plane from Les Voiles Blanches. And he's skiing over the mountain to meet it,” Kirk finished.

McCoy paled. “But he can’t go that way! Not over the mountain! The temperature has warmed and the snow is getting mushy. When I came off the slopes, the Ski Patrol was just headed out to the main trails to warn skiers about potential avalanches. The Patrol is packing guns to eliminate potential avalanches. But Spock will be taking the side trail over the mountain! Nobody will be there to stop him or prevent potential slides! He’ll get killed!”

“He knows that there's danger of avalanches," Kirk reassured McCoy in with a calming voice. "He'll be careful."

"No, he won't! He's not thinking about anything but his problems with me! He'll ski right into disaster!"

"Come on," Kirk said. "We’ll stop him.”

But Kirk had no need to urge McCoy. He was already running out of the private quarters.

As he headed out the door, Kirk grabbed a pistol. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to be doing with it, but somehow he felt better prepared with it in his hand.


	9. He Hit That Mountain Like His Ass Was On Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tormented and distracted Spock needs rescuing from a potentially dangerous situation, so why do the Keystone Cops go after him?  
> 

The mountain air was sharp on Spock's face as Spock sped across the snow, and the glare of sunshine on all of that whiteness up ahead would've been too intense without sunglasses. But Spock was paying no heed to his surroundings as he wove automatically through the stand of mature evergreens. Abruptly, he passed the last tree and entered a treeless plain. He was above the tree line. The mountain pass lay just ahead of him. He renewed his efforts. Twenty feet shot by under his skis. Fifty feet. Ninety.

He allowed his thoughts to wander as the crest of the mountain raced toward him. But in his mind's eye, all he was seeing was McCoy lying beneath him, reaching for him, his naked body warm and eager and ready. And all that Spock could remember was the memory of holding McCoy, kissing him, moving inside him, sheltering him, cuming inside him.

\--a hundred and thirty feet--

The feeling of all that bare, elastic skin beneath his eager hands and the urgent hunger of that seeking mouth on his were things that would haunt his dreams forever more and cause him to stop in his tracks during his waking hours and frown in remembrance. That had been his. Once. No more.

A hundred and-- No, it was two hundred and-- It had to be at least two hundred more feet away from McCoy and increasing by the second.

He wasn't moving toward the mountain, but away from McCoy. From now on, he would always be moving away from McCoy.

And his heart was breaking.

A little further and McCoy would be safe. Safe from him--

Three hundred feet from the tree line. It had to be at least three hundred feet now--

Never more to see McCoy. Never more to touch that skin. Hear his sighs of passion. Plunge into his body and explore its depths and feel his warmth all around that most sensitive part of Spock. Never to taste again those lips and trace the curves of that body with his yearning fingers. Never again to know what love could be....

Once again Spock could see McCoy lying under him, unmoving and shivering, his eyes screwed shut with emotion. His hands twisting whatever they could reach. But not fighting. McCoy was not fighting. Just taking whatever Spock had brought to him, be it a demanding mouth scouring McCoy's bruised and bleeding lips or sharp fingernails raking down his abraded back or a swollen cock plunging into his already tender anus. Whatever Spock offered, McCoy took. Shaking. Quivering. Gasping. Sighing. McCoy took it all, whatever Spock gave him. McCoy took it. Not fighting, but accepting. And apparently grateful. Because there had been those sighs, those beautiful, ethereal sighs....

And Spock could hear McCoy sighing still, sighing with passion and pleasure and pain and something else. Something else....

Surrender!

That's what had gotten Spock. McCoy's trusting surrender. Why would McCoy do that?! For Spock?!

But that surrender. The willing surrender that just blew every circuit in Spock's mind. Spock could not forget it.

How could McCoy surrender like that? Give his all? Trust his all? If Spock lived to be two hundred, he would never understand McCoy's willingness to surrender himself so completely like that.

Especially since Spock had not been honest with McCoy.

Spock just hoped that Captain Kirk went down on his knees every day and begged for forgiveness from Mr. Scott for not being loyal to him. How Kirk must be hurting Mr. Scott! Surely Captain Kirk was bothered by his conscience and was thereby hurting himself, too. Spock did not want Captain Kirk to be hurting as he was! No one should feel pain like this! No one! But Spock must. Because he had taken Dr. McCoy under false pretenses. And now Spock must live with his shame. Alone. Forever. With a breaking heart.

Spock could get away from McCoy and leave him in peace. At least he could do that much for McCoy. As for himself, he was lost. But that was what he deserved. For he was such an awful person and not worth anyone's time or worry.

A shot rang out in the still mountain air, and Spock skidded to a stop on his skis. The noise had startled him, but what stunned him more was when he looked around and realized how close he was to the crest of the mountain. When had that happened? He had been calculating the distance from the tree line, but he had last noted it several moments ago.

Spock shook himself for clarity. He had been so deeply in thought about McCoy that he had been skiing automatically. That can be dangerous in snow country when conditions can literally change from one moment to the next, especially since he was so close to the crest of the mountain. Heaven only knew what loomed ahead for him.

Spock had been lucky so far on this run, and Spock didn't believe in luck. But nothing else could account for his having gotten this far without incident. Thankfully, his many years of skiing had trained his body to respond automatically to the feel of the snow beneath his skis, and he had moved along on instinct and reflex. But he needed to be more alert from now on. And that should start with a quick reconnaissance of his current situation and then a quicker analysis of what accounted for the gunshot that had brought him to attention.

All of that flew through his mind as his eyes swept upward toward the mountain peak high above him. He squinted against the sun glare despite his sun glasses. The day was warming so the snow would be softening. Neither of that was good for safe skiing.

The ski trail led around one side of the crest of the mountain instead of across its top, and that might prove more dangerous when it came to the threat of avalanches. Spock eyed the snow pack hanging precariously over him. Anything could start it to sliding. Why would anyone risk an avalanche by firing a weapon?

Spock looked back down the trail he had just skied, back down to where the shot had been fired. He saw three figures standing a few feet above the tree line. They had apparently stepped out of the pines, spotted him, and fired a gun to get his attention. The fact that they were jumping up and down and waving their arms further proved his theory. They were also yelling, but he could not make out what they trying to tell him. Even with his acute hearing, he could not understand them.

But the fact remained that they were definitely trying to hail him.

Three figures. Jim Kirk. Mr. Scott. Dr. McCoy. Spock's heart gave a lurch as his eyes narrowed and focused on McCoy. It had to be McCoy. Spock would know that red scarf anywhere.

He could not face McCoy. Not now. He needed time to think, to find a way to beg forgiveness, to find the words it would take to justify his actions to McCoy and to himself. He could not do any of that now. He had no course but to flee.

He started to turn, then heard a sharp increase in the bellowing below him. The noise had definitely been kicked up a notch, or maybe even two. Spock looked down and frowned. He saw that Kirk and McCoy seemed to be grappling with each other while Scotty yelled at them, probably for them to stop fighting. 

Spock's frown deepened. Why were Kirk and McCoy fighting each other? What would have happened to have caused such an outcome between them? Those two had no reason to quarrel, but it was obvious that they were. It was not logical, yet Spock could not deny what his eyes were telling him. Kirk and McCoy were indeed slugging each other as if they were in a struggle to the death. They gripped each other tighter as their fists pummeled each other wildly.

Then another shot tore through the peace on that mountain ridge, and Spock jerked.

The two fighters froze, screamed in pain, collapsed into the snow, and lay still. Scotty yelled “No!," dropped between them, threw his arms up in the air, and began to wail as if he was teaching the banshees how to do it right. Even at that great distance, Spock could understand Scotty’s anguished cries of grief and knew what was wrong. Scotty's heart was breaking because someone he loved was hurt.

Spock could relate. If life was over for Kirk or McCoy or both of them, then so was his.

No! echoed through Spock's own mind and awoke his paralyzed body. Kirk! McCoy! They were hurt! Maybe dead! He must act!

Spock pushed his body up on his ski poles, jumped high as he twisted around, and landed a dozen feet away from his launching spot. His body zoomed down the ski trail as if he'd been shot out of a cannon. He crouched low so he could go faster down the hill. He thought that he heard a rumbling behind him, but he was so worried about the precious people below him that he paid no attention to the noise. Something was wrong with two of the people he cared about most in his life, and he could not get to them fast enough. 

He wiped away at loose snow as it flew back into his face. Odd that he had not noticed such spattering on his way up the mountain, but still the fact remained that he was being pelted now by snow.

Still the fallen men were not moving. And the closer he got to them, Spock could hear Scotty’s rising laments of sorrow. At least that's what Spock thought they were.

Spock skidded to a stop, unbuckled his skis, tossed his gloves aside, dropped at McCoy’s side, and began clawing at him.

“Doctor! Doctor! Where are you injured?! Have you been shot?!”

McCoy groaned weakly, but did not move.

McCoy was alive! But barely! He must not be dying!

Spock lost it. He blanched dead white, shook McCoy, and screamed his name.

“Doctor! Do not leave me!”

McCoy opened his eyes and grinned up at him. "Now, why would I ever do that?"

Spock dropped his mouth open, sucked his breath in, bugged his eyes out, and snapped his shoulders back. But outside of that, he did not move. He couldn't.

McCoy reached up, grabbed Spock in his arms before he could react further, and yelled, “Gotcha!” with a gleeful smile as he pulled himself into a sitting position. "And I'm not letting loose of you anytime soon, either!"

“What the?!” Spock protested as he looked around, trying to figure out what was going on.

As Scotty leaned back on his heels to watch, Kirk was just sitting up. “Finally! I was getting tired of lying in that snow! It is damnation cold on my backside! I don’t care how warm the air temperature is supposed to be, that snow is freezing my ass!”

"Now, lad, you will survive a little bit of a chill," Scotty clucked to him as he slapped snow off Kirk's clothing.

“What is the meaning of this?” Spock demanded. “Were the two of you not fighting? I heard a shot and saw you both fall. Were neither of you wounded?”

“Nah,” Kirk answered with a smug grin. “Scotty just shot my pistol into the snow so nobody would get hit. But you didn't know that. It was the only way we had to stop you from skiing into an avalanche.”

“But you shot your gun. Twice. The noise from that would cause the snow pack to begin to slide.”

“A chance we had to take,” McCoy answered. "We had to get your attention. There was no way we could overtake you unless you stopped, so we had to stop you."

“But what were you fighting about? Why did you start hitting each other with your fists?”

“Desperate times call for desperate solutions,” Kirk answered. “We saw that you were going to continue on with your journey despite the fact that we’d managed to stop you, and you had no idea that you were skiing into sure death. The Ski Patrol was bringing in people off the regular runs because the danger for avalanches has increased this afternoon. But you didn’t know that. You just thought we were trying to stop you because of the Starfleet fiasco. Then McCoy said, ‘Sock me,’ and I replied with a brilliant, ‘Huh? I'm not mad at you.’ Then I finally understood. We were just supposed to pretend to be fighting for your benefit."

"So you were not angry with each other?"

"Nah, we had other things on our mind, things like your safety. After we'd been scuffling around for a few moments, acting like we were tearing the hell outa each other, we knew we had to do more. So Bones said for us to risk another shot, then to play dead. He said that you were so damn naturally curious that you’d have to come check out what had happened to us. And you did!” Kirk grinned at the cleverness of the plan.

McCoy had scooted into a comfortable position while holding onto the puzzled Spock who did not even realize that he was being held. He'd meant his vow of not letting Spock loose anytime soon. “What I further said was that you surely liked at least one of us enough to be concerned. And you did. And it saved your life.”

Spock looked confused. “What do you mean? It saved me?”

“You actually have no idea, do you?” Kirk asked with a wry grin of irony on his face.

Spock shook his head.

"Take a look at where you came from." Kirk pointed up the trail, back to where Spock had been standing just moments before. A field of fresh snow completely covered the trail and had partly followed him on his path down the slope.

Spock’s eyes widened.

“When you made that jumping start to get down here, the vibration of your landing must have been the last straw for that snow pack above you. What the two shots had started, your weight finished,” Kirk explained. “And we just had to freeze in place so that you would keep on coming. And I'm here to tell you right now that there was more than once I thought that my heart was gonna jump right out of my mouth. It's the longest few seconds I've ever spent lying still, but I knew that I had to be perfectly motionless.”

“If you had stopped at any moment, the snow might have overtaken you,” McCoy said softly. “And we just had to lie here and watch it chasing you down that hill. We could lift our heads enough to see what was happening, but Scotty kept yelling at us to lie still or you might stop. And stopping again might’ve gotten you killed. As it was, that avalanche was right behind you.”

“I felt snow on my face,” Spock remarked, still stunned by the tragedy that had almost snuffed out his life. “I thought that my skis were kicking it up.”

“It was magnificent to behold, and that is a fact,” Scotty related, his voice still full of awe at what he had witnessed. "You and that snowing chasing you down that hill made quite a picture."

“It looked like your ass was on fire and the smoke was keeping right on your tail,” McCoy agreed. “You’ve seen speedboats with a plume of lake water spewing out behind them? Or a water skier with water spouting out behind him like a rooster tail? Well, that’s what you looked like, except it was snow instead of nice cushy water. The water would get you wet, but that snow would’ve buried you. And you weren’t even wearing my red scarf so the Ski Patrol could find you back.”

Spock felt McCoy’s hand shaking as he said that last part, so Spock gripped it to reassure McCoy. “It is alright. I am safe now.”

McCoy bit his lips together, and Spock realized that McCoy was too overcome to answer back. So Spock gripped his hand again.

McCoy relaxed his mouth, then curved it into a gentle smile. “We need to talk.”

Spock gazed at him levelly, then nodded.

Kirk glanced at Scotty. "And we need to talk, too. All of this has made me see what a jerk I've been with you."

"That is just our relationship, lad," Scotty mumbled with downcast eyes. "I am lucky to have you when I do."

"But that makes me a perfect asshole!"

"Aye, I have to admit that you do possess one," Scotty joked, trying to lighten the seriousness of what Kirk was saying.

But Kirk wouldn't be cajoled. "I don't want you to risk your life with an avalanche instead of confronting me. You can see what it almost cost Spock and McCoy. I think I can live with compromise a whole lot easier than I can with guilt and remorse. I can't face life by myself because you're dead." Tears sprang into Kirk's eyes. "I gotta have you somewhere in my life, Scotty. I don't want you running away because you think that's your only option."

Scotty breathed deeply. "If accountability is what you're needing, I will most certainly make you toe the line. It would make both of us feel more secure."

Kirk smiled happily. "Thank you."

“I was wrong to run,” Spock admitted to McCoy. “But I was ashamed of what I had done.”

“Of what you thought you had done,” McCoy corrected. “But we’ll get all of that straightened out. Later.” He pushed himself to his feet. “Right now, Scotty and I have a plane to catch.”

Spock’s heart fell. “So you are leaving?”

“So we can come back,” McCoy answered.

“Pardon?” Spock asked, confused.

“We have lives. Jobs. Responsibilities. We have to get that all squared away. Then we can come back.” McCoy’s face softened. “Then we can come back to start our real lives. With you and Jim. At Starfleet.”

Spock’s eyes widened with hope. “You mean?”

McCoy grinned. “Yep. That’s right. Scotty and I are ready to give it all a chance. That’s our motto, you know. We’ll try anything once; twice if we like it.” He arched an eyebrow. “And speaking for Scotty and me, we definitely like IT!”

Scotty and Kirk groaned and complained about McCoy's outrageous play on words as McCoy tried to act innocent about what he had just said. The foursome chatted amiably among themselves as they refastened their skis and started back down the mountain toward the resort so they could eat some lunch and enjoy their mutual company together until they would be separated by McCoy and Scotty's departure.

But the departure was only a pause and not a closing. The next important phase of their lives was just beginning, and McCoy felt as if it would be a very important one. Who knew what the future held in store for them, but at least they would all be seeing it through together.

And to think that it had all started because of a chance weekend jaunt up into Canada to revitalize their lives. No wonder the lyrics of the old love song were playing so loudly in McCoy's head as the skis of their plane lifted off the snowy lake in front of the resort where love had been just one of the many pleasures to be found there. As he and Scotty waved farewell to the two men waving up to them from the dock, McCoy knew that it was not "goodbye" they were saying but "see you soon."

That old love song had proven to be prophetic for all of them. And as the plane flew away into the approaching sunset, McCoy smiled softly with the memory of Spock's goodbye kiss still tingling on his lips. More important had been the unspoken promise of many more kisses to follow. And those were the ones that McCoy was thinking about now.

"And then I discovered you and in your eyes  
I found the love that I couldn't ignore.

"Down, down came the sun  
Fast, fast, fast, beat my heart  
I knew when the sun set  
From that day, we'd never ever part."

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.
> 
> I own nothing of the song "Canadian Sunset" nor do I represent any artist or the estate of any artist who has sung or recorded it.


End file.
